Five Feet Apart
by djupcake
Summary: Eccentric billionaire Adrian Arendelle is offering 100,000 dollars to any former couple that can live with each other for an entire year. But if you fall in love again at any time, you forfeit the prize money and must leave Arendelle Towers. Anna Reinhart isn't sweating that catch, though, because there's no way in hell she's gonna fall in love with Elsa Stark again.
1. Day 1

**Day One: Reintroduction**

I've done a lot of crazy stuff in my life. I've also done a lot of dumb stuff in my life. But this? This has got to be the craziest, dumbest thing I'm ever going to do. It's at least in the top three, easily. And as I'm following the bellhop that's pushing all my crap onto the elevator, all I can think to say is:

"Anna Reinhart, you are fucking insane."

Part of me thinks this is some sort of dream, or a nightmare depending on what's waiting for me at the end of this elevator ride. But I know it's not because I'm wearing pants and I don't feel like my limbs are moving through jelly. If I punched this super helpful bellhop, it'd send him and all my luggage crashing onto the floor. And then I'd have to drag my stuff to my room, oh and I'd also have to apologize and all that.

Maybe part of me _wants _this to be a dream. It'd sure as hell explain why I called the number on that ridiculous ad, passed the interview process, and am now spending a year all expenses paid in Arendelle Towers.

And that's not even the craziest part of this whole thing. I've got the ad burned into my damn brain from reading it so much to make sure that it was really real.

* * *

_**LIVE WITH YOUR EX FOR ONE YEAR, AND WIN $100,000**_

_Eccentric millionaire Adrian Arendelle is seeking out former couples that ended on not-so-good terms for the opportunity of a lifetime. If chosen, and having passed the interview process, you and your ex will spend one year together in the beautiful Arendelle Towers. All expenses paid, and full access to all the accommodations in this grand hotel. If you last through an entire calendar year, you will both win $100,000._

_But here's the catch: If you fall in love again at any time, you forfeit the $100,000 and will be evicted from Arendelle Towers._

* * *

If I fall in love again. _If_ I fall in love again.

Well, technically it's if _we _fall in love again but I'm not holding my breath at the love being on both sides. I've been in a few unofficial relationships here and there (never put the label on them because of one reason or another), but I've only ever been in one official relationship.

One that I can honestly say I invested everything into.

One that I can honestly say broke my heart.

Which is why I'm not sweating that catch, because I seriously doubt that I'm gonna fall in love with Elsa Stark again.

The elevator doors open, and I feel like I've overestimated the amount of stuff I should have brought. The way I see it, this whole experiment ends in two ways: we spend the next year barely tolerating and talking to each other so that we get the money, or things blow up before I even have time to unpack. I _want _to stay here for the whole year to get that $100,000 but who knows what Elsa wants.

I sure as hell don't know anymore.

"Be honest, you guys place bets on how long each couple lasts here, huh?" I ask the bellhop as I adjust the strap on my backpack.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, ma'am."

I walk behind him silently. Any second now…

He sighs, "I have you guys down for six months."

I smirk, the silent treatment always works. "Honestly, that's a little longer than _I'm _expecting. But hey, maybe a shit-ton of miracles come our way and we're able to make it through the whole year."

The bellhop laughs, "Me and my ex would probably last six _days._"

Before I know it, we've made it: Room 914. My room- er, our room. Do I even call it a room? Because it looks like a small house.

The kitchen/loft is bigger than my entire shitty apartment in East Arendelle. It's got couches- _plural_\- and the kitchen's fully stocked. The floor is wood instead of a carpet made out of dirty sheep hair or whatever it is, and the walls are super white.

I'm in heaven, but I'm still expecting to live in my own personal hell.

The bedrooms are on the left side of this...bigger room, and our names are taped to the doors. Just like college, or at least what I've seen from TV. I never actually went. Elsa did though because of course she did. Her room is on the far side, mine is closest to the front door. We're only five feet apart from each other.

I open my door and holy _shit_. There's a TV in here! A huge flat-screen mounted to the wall! The bed's big enough to fit two of me, and the bathroom is big enough that I could do backflips and stuff if I wanted to. I mean I'm not going to, but it's nice to have the option. Even the A/C feels just right, it doesn't feel like I'm walking into a meat cooler.

I let out a weird breath, "I'm being pranked, right? There's a cameraman in that closet and an ax murderer under my bed, isn't there?"

"Not that I know of." The bellhop takes the last of my stuff off the cart and whistles. "This place is niiiiiice."

"You've never been in one of these before?"

"The competition suites? Nah. If I were you, I'd try to stay here as long as possible."

"That's the plan." I smile at him and pull out $5 from my wallet. "Thanks for your help, I definitely needed it."

He took the tip and bowed his head. "That's my job. Have a good day ma'am, and good luck to both of you."

"Thanks." When I hear the front door close, I take a look at at my luggage. I have a lot of unpacking to do, and I'm not just talking about my clothes. This was gonna be interesting, and probably super awkward. But I wasn't gonna give up this room that easily. This life.

First things first though, I jump onto my bed and sink into the mattress. Unpacking can wait.

* * *

I wake up to the sound of the front door opening. I didn't even know I fell asleep.

"Anna? You here?"

Shit, it's her. I thought I'd have a little more time than this before I saw Elsa again, but I guess I burned through all that free time with my nap. I haven't seen her in a year, more than a year I think; not since the breakup. The fact that I didn't even see her out in the wild is a testament to how good my ex-girlfriend avoiding skills are. Unfortunately, they're so good that I haven't prepared myself for the inevitable. I honestly didn't know how to plan for this, I didn't even expect them to choose us for this contest.

But now she's here, in the room- _our _room, what the fuck- and I'm not ready to see her. Which doesn't matter, because I'm going to in like two seconds.

The sound of the wheels on her suitcase gets louder until they're right up to my open door. Elsa peeks through my door frame...

Damn it, she still looks gorgeous.

She's got these big blue eyes that make you feel all warm and fuzzy, and her freckles are more visible than I remember. Her hair is still the same as before: platinum blonde in a complicated French braid over her shoulder. The jeans she's wearing show off her impossibly curved hips, and she's got on a t-shirt of this indie band that I remember getting her into.

"H-hey," I stammer out. Good job, Anna, your shit communication skills are already shining.

"Hey," she says back in that stupidly sweet voice of hers. "How long have you been here?"

I sit up from my bed and fumble for my phone- how the hell did it get on the floor? "Uh...about two hours- wait seriously two hours? Holy shit, I was out for that long?"

Elsa shrugs, "I guess so."

"Wow…" I should be saying more, right? I should be making an effort to have a conversation. I've never done this before, my amazing avoiding skills means that I don't know how to talk to girls like Elsa. How the hell are you even supposed to start a conversation with your ex-girlfriend?

"So you've just been taking a nap this whole time?" Elsa asks, saving me the trouble of coming up with anything.

"You know how long my naps usually take."

Elsa smiles, and I'm definitely _not _having trouble with breathing. "I do. Hey, how about after we unpack, we go get some food and catch up? And talk about...this." She spins a finger around. "Sound good?"

"Sounds great!" Alright, dial it back, girl. Don't sound so excited, remember how she broke your heart?

And now Elsa's smile has reached her fucking eyes. Damn. It. "Great, I'll talk to you in a little bit." She closes my door, which finally gives me a chance to breathe again.

And collapse back onto my bed.

This is gonna be harder than I thought.

* * *

Even the way she eats a sandwich is cuter than I remember. She's got both hands near the bottom like a hamster eating sunflower seeds, and she's looking at it like it's the greatest sandwich ever made.

And I'm looking down at my plate wondering who the hell thought pickles on a chicken sandwich was a good idea.

I don't really have much of an appetite considering Elsa's sitting right in front of me, and your stomach doesn't exactly do well when you're sitting in front of the girl you had a nasty break-up with a year ago. Besides, she wanted to talk, right? Might as well just rip the band-aid off now and bring up the massive elephant in the room.

"So...we're gonna be living together for a year."

Elsa nods and dabs at her mouth with a napkin, "And if we make it, we get $100,000."

"If? Do you think we're not gonna last a whole year together?" That'd be a surprisingly negative take from Elsa.

She shrugs, "Living together's a different story, which is why we need to come up with a plan as soon as possible."

I nod, at least we're on the same page with that.

"They told you the rules, right?"

Rules? "I thought there was only the one?"

"There was an attachment in the email they sent." She says with kind of a condescending tone. "Didn't you read it?"

"Well obviously not." I frown, why is she being so defensive and acting like I'm an idiot? This is exactly how she was acting right before the breakup, it's like nothing's changed. I want to call her out on it, but I can't. Think about the $100,000, Anna. Think about what you can do with that money. You can buy your parents' house so you can stick it to those assholes.

Instead of saying any of that, I just say: "What _are _the rules?"

Elsa looks at me and smiles, and now I'm more confused than ever. "Well obviously we need to live together in this hotel, but we have free rein to go wherever we want and whenever we want."

Great, that means I can leave whenever things get awkward. And I can still hang out with my friends.

"All the expenses are paid, that means food too and anything else that we might need. Anything purchased outside of Arendelle Towers, though, is on us."

I'm fine with that. I crashed a wedding here once and the food is amazing. And the pool is like a small river.

"And there's a weekly check-in that happens every Sunday. So the first one is gonna be in six days."

Kind of a weird way to say that the first check-in is happening this Sunday, but I guess that's good to know for people that can't do math. "What's the check-in for?"

"It's just to gauge how well we're taking to living together. And to make sure that we don't...you know."

I raise an eyebrow. She can't say it. I mean of course she can't, but you'd think she'd at least say the word in passing even if she doesn't mean it. "Make sure that we don't _what, _Elsa?"

She rolls her eyes, "You know what I'm talking about."

"Do I though?"

"Drop it, Anna." Elsa glares at me, and I swear I almost shit my pants from the total mood shift. I want to go on the offensive because of it but I can't. Again, I have to think about the money.

After a couple of seconds of tense, uncomfortable silence, she sighs and rubs her temple with her hand. "Sorry, uh...it was kind of a long drive getting here. I'm just tired."

I know she's lying, but damn it I can't call her out on it.

"So why not take a nap? You know, like I did." And so that I can get some much-needed time to myself.

She laughs, and I pretend my weird heart palpitation is from the cholesterol in the chicken. That I haven't even touched. You can get cholesterol by smelling it, right? "I'm not even finished with my lunch yet, you stinker."

Stinker. That's what we used to call each other. Why is she doing this? Why is she acting like we're two friends just catching up? Is that what she wants? ...what do _I _want?

I want that $100,000, so if that means not asking her these things then I guess I won't. Even though I want to grab her by the collar and tell her how shitty the breakup made me feel. I want to say that right to her stupid, dumb face. With those stupid, dumb eyes that make you wanna drown in them, and those stupid, dumb freckles that look like the finishing touches of an artist's masterpiece, and that stupid, dumb hair swoop that frames that stupid...dumb...pretty face.

Fuck.

"Anna, you there?"

I blink. "Wha- yeah I'm here. Why?"

She raises one stupid, dumb eyebrow, "You spaced out there for a minute, and you've barely touched your food. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just not hungry. I'll get a box and bring it up to the room."

"...okaaaaaay. Well I'm almost done, so we can go soon. Unless there's something else you wanted to talk about." She's looking at me with those stupid, dumb eyes again, and I cannot get a read on her. It's infuriating, this whole lunch was a horrible idea. And definitely not what I expected from our reintroduction. That's a word, right?

"Like what?" I ask with a shred of frustration, seeing if she gets the hint.

She shrugs, "Whatever you want."

It doesn't seem like she does, and my frustration grows from there. Does she expect me to talk about the breakup? Does she want to talk about the breakup? Do _I _want to talk about the breakup? No, I know what I want to do.

"I just want to go back to the room."

Elsa laughs again, and even though it sounds less convincing, it still...ugh. "That's fair," she says. "I _did _wake you up from your nap. Lemme go pay and we can head up together. Okay?"

No, it's not okay. None of this okay.

And I wanted to get up there first so I could get a headstart on avoiding her, but I can't be that much of a bitch on the first day. Day 365? Absolutely. Day 1? Absolutely not.

"Okay," I say with the fakest smile I can give without it seeming too obvious that it's not okay.

She gives one more stupid, dumb smile and as she sits up, she says, "I'll get you a box too for your food."

When she walks away, I say thank you to her back. I know I'll get more alone time once I retreat back to my room, but I can't hold the sigh of relief that comes out of me when she moves away. At least I _think _it's a sigh of relief. I'm watching her talk to the hostess, and seeing her be polite and kind and everything that I fell in love with before...and then I have to stop. I push my plate away, and lean my head on one of my hands and groan.

"Anna Reinhart, you are fucking insane."

* * *

**A/N: Hello dudes and dudettes, I have returned. How long's it been? Like two months? Whatever, I can't do math. **

**Life's been kinda shit, but I've just sorta gotten used to that hahaha...**

**I recently went through a really shitty breakup, and I wrote this story to cope. I also wrote it because I saw some stupid meme on Reddit that inspired me to write a story with the premise being based off one question: Would you live with your ex for one year for $100,000? I am _not _going to answer that question so don't even ask. **

**It's gonna be a day-to-day sorta story with time skips and all that because writing 365 chapters would be a bitch. Not every chapter is gonna be the same length, and their personalities are obviously going to be very different than what they were in my last few stories. I don't know my update schedule yet, I'm going to _try _and update this weekly and stick to that schedule but life sometimes kicks me in the ass, you know? **

**Anyway, I'm back and ready to go on another journey with y'all. I hope you stick with me through it. **


	2. Day 4

**Day Four: Coexist**

Thankfully, we haven't talked much since that first day.

Immediately after that meal, I retreated back to my room to figure out a schedule (i.e. finding a way to spend the least amount of time with Elsa). I hate doing that, I like to know that I don't know what's gonna happen, it keeps me on my toes.

To my credit, though, I've stuck to it pretty well: I wake up around 11 AM, go to the gym, have a super late breakfast/kinda early lunch, stay in the bathroom for like an hour, meet up with one of my friends, come back to the room and eat a super late dinner in front of my TV, and then watch stuff until I pass out which is usually around 1 AM.

...I never said it was a healthy schedule.

Whatever, it works. And my interactions with Elsa have been minimal aside from good morning and asking about her day. Hey, she doesn't seem bothered by the fact that we're not talking much, and I'm not either.

The way I see it, this setup will be best for both of us.

At least that's what I tell myself, but damn it I can't get rid of that weird feeling in my stomach. I want to ask her how she's been, but she looks okay...so do I even need to? I want answers, but I don't know what for.

I still want to tell her how I barely slept for two months after the breakup because my bed was so cold.

But she looks okay, and I don't want to jeopardize that because I don't want to lose out on this. So as much as I don't want to, I _have _to keep biting my tongue. What other choice do I have?

Aside from, you know, talking about my feelings with her like an adult.

That's not gonna happen, but if I don't let out this pent-up frustration somehow, then I'm gonna go crazy. Luckily, three out of the five massive gyms at Arendelle Towers have punching bags. I just happen to be here at a time when none of them were in use.

Don't get it twisted, I don't have any fighting experience. Like at all. But I have taken self-defense classes before and I really liked all the punching and kicking they had us do. Turns out it's really therapeutic.

I've fixed my feet to keep myself grounded and in a proper stance, and I've got gloves and everything. On the inside, I feel like some badass cage fighter, on the outside I just look like a girl who didn't get a lot of sleep. They say you shouldn't picture anyone on the punching bag, and I'm not. I'm picturing a memory. A very specific memory.

_THWACK_

We're in her apartment, six months after my birthday. We just had dinner at this Italian place that she loves, hoping that'll get her talking.

_THWACK_

She barely speaks while we're there, she barely speaks while we're in her bedroom. I kiss her and it's like she's going through the motions.

_THWACK_

I get angry, to the point that I'm almost in tears. I come out and ask why she hasn't said "I love you too". She doesn't respond, she says she has a lot on her mind. She says she doesn't want to hurt me.

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

I say that not saying anything hurts me more. I say that she doesn't know how much it hurts.

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

We're shouting. I'm shouting. She says nothing else. She won't say anything else. I ask if she'll ever say it back. She says nothing. She says she's sorry. She says she doesn't want to hurt me. She says she's sorry that she's not who I want her to be. I've heard that same shit from her a hundred times.

_THWACK_

I leave. I tell her it's over. She doesn't stop me.

_THWACK_

Why doesn't she stop me? Why doesn't she fucking stop me?!

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

I hate her.

_THWACK_

I love her.

_THWACK_

I miss her.

_THWACK_

I hope she's miserable.

_THUD_

I'm knocked on my ass by the force of a 60-pound punching bag swinging on to me. Everyone inside the gym is looking at me concerned, a few people even look impressed. I get back up and wave at everyone to show that I'm okay. Even though my hands feel like they were smashed by a hammer and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have a bruise on my ass later.

Part of me is impressed I was able to hit it so hard that it swung back at me, another part of me is scared by how far gone I was.

Damn it Elsa, you're interrupting my alone time.

* * *

I call it quits not long after that. It's been a couple of hours and now I'm sweaty and gross, which is gonna make my shower and nap that much more satisfying. I might even take a bath, none of my friends are available today so I need to burn as much time as possible.

I lean against the wall of the elevator, it's empty which means I get to enjoy a couple more minutes alone. That is, until a hand appears between the doors right before they close. I kind of want to see if glaring at them makes them wait for the next-

Fuck, it's Elsa.

Her eyes widen once she sees me, "Oh hey!"

"Hey!" I say back without thinking.

"Did you just get done at the gym?"

I look down, "Do the sweaty tank top and leggings not give that away?"

She giggles- damn it- even though my comment seemed a little too bitchy. "I didn't want to assume anything. And that's a cute tank top."

It's a 50-cent thrift shop find and has a picture of a monkey playing the drums. I almost fought this teenager for it. It's one of my favorite shirts. "I mean it's okay, I guess."

The doors close, and I swear the elevator goes extra slow today. Or maybe it's slow because neither of us have said another word. Elsa's just looking at the blinking lights on the top of the cart like a puppy looking at his owner's food.

Once I stop looking at her stupid, dumb face, I ask something that I should have asked earlier: "Where have you been?"

Elsa smiles and gestures to the backpack over her shoulder, "I was doing some writing. Did you know this place has a library?"

Huh, I guess she's still trying to make it as an author. "You know I stopped reading voluntarily after high school."

She frowns, "Yeah but I was hoping that might have changed."

I could say the same about you.

"What was that, Anna?"

_Shit._

"Nothing, I was...talking to myself. Don't worry about it." Me and my big mouth, damn it Elsa. Why'd you have to go to the library this early in the morning? I mean it's 12 PM, but whatever.

"Mmkay, well I'm right here. You don't have to talk to yourself."

"We'll have more time to talk when we get back to the room." Why did I say that?! Uuuuuuugh.

Wait, Elsa's face lights up when I say that. Why? Does she want to talk to me? I wish I could understand her better, but she's giving me nothing. All I get is that smile and those bright, excitable eyes that I used to love looking at.

"Okay!" She says with genuine happiness. At least that's what it sounds like.

Finally, _finally_, the elevator doors open and we're back on the ninth floor...and now begins the long walk down the hallway.

I hate my life.

"So what'd you do at the gym?" Elsa asks.

"Oh just some cardio stuff, high-intensity interval training and all that." And also punching the crap out of an innocent punching bag.

"That's cool. Do you still go a lot?"

"Five times a week, yeah." Now thinking about making it seven. I wonder if she'll notice it if I fast walk to the room. I could just make up an excuse like I need to pee really bad or something.

"I've started going too, but I'm there in the mornings before you wake up."

I shake my head, "Never understood how you can be such a morning person."

"Me neither."

Somehow we make it to our door safe and sound. I take my keycard out of the slim pocket of my leggings at the same time Elsa takes hers out of her jeans. We both reach for the door at the same time and pull back at the same time. What is this? A romantic comedy?

"Go ahead," I tell her as I gesture towards the door with my keycard. She smiles and opens the door for us.

I have not been this excited to see the inside of our room since the beginning of this week. To my credit, though, I rein in my eagerness enough to walk naturally back to my room.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I feel all sweaty and gross," I add with a sheepish smile that I hope signals the end of this awkward conversation.

"Okay!" Elsa opens her bedroom door at the same time that I open mine. But before she goes in, she leans on her door frame and gives me a look I've seen a hundred times before. A shy smile with her eyes looking down at my shoes.

She's about to ask me to do something.

"Uh hey, I know we can talk after you take a shower but I guess I wanna ask now before I forget…"

"What is it?" I ask, even though inside I'm dreading whatever it is. She bites her lip, which completes the look. And even before she asks, I know it's gonna be hard for me to say no.

"Do you wanna...do something tomorrow? You know like hang out and do something? Just the two of us?"

Uh...huh.

Well, that's unexpected.

Did she just- no. No no no. No! Don't think of it as a date. Don't think of it as a date. Do _not _think of it as a date. Elsa just asked you a completely innocent question. She just wants to know if you have time to hang out tomorrow.

Alone.

Just the two of you.

Oh my gosh, it sure as hell sounds like one. But you know her. She makes her intentions very clear and tells you exactly what she wants. If she was gonna ask you out on a date, she'd just come right out and say it. But she didn't, which means it's not a date. Plus that would be stupid because that would mean she'd want to get back together, which would be wrong because...something, I don't know right now.

Also the money. We'd lose the money.

But maybe she's too scared to come right out and say it, so she's going with the safe question. To see how I'll take it. Well I'm not taking it very well, am I?!

As I'm having this internal debate, I see Elsa's smile lower and she begins to go into her room. "You know what? Uh, that was kind of a stupid question to ask. Forget I said anything, okay?"

Fuck it. "Yeah, I'm down."

She reappears, "Really? For sure?"

"For sure." I'm not, but she doesn't need to know that.

Her smile is small but relieved. It's like she's already in tomorrow, thinking about us spending time together. And it's killing me, especially when she says "I'm glad" in the sweetest, fucking voice.

"I'll talk to you after you take a shower and do whatever you need to do, okay?" She says, still wearing that damn smile.

"Okay." I'm just about to close my door when I hear Elsa say my name.

"What's up?" I ask her.

"I just...wanted to say thanks. I know this whole thing is kind of awkward…" Kind of? "So just, thanks for not completely shutting me out."

"I would…" I stop myself, right before saying that I would never shut her out. I don't want to make promises I can't keep. "...I wouldn't want that to happen. If we're gonna be living together for a year, we should find a better way to coexist."

"Coexist…" Elsa repeats like she's tasting the word on her tongue. "Yeah, we really should."

"Yeah so...don't sweat it."

She snickers, "I could say the same thing to you."

"What do…" Elsa points a finger at my shirt, "Oh. Right. Yeah, I gotta go take a shower."

"Have fun," Elsa remarks before closing her door and giggling.

I close my own door, quickly grab the first pair of clothes I see, and shut myself in my bathroom for an hour. I do more thinking than showering.

* * *

**A/N: Just to clarify, this whole story will be written from Anna's perspective.**

**And yes, I **_**do **_**want you to believe that she has the strength to knock a 60-pound punching bag so hard that it comes back at her with enough force to knock her down. Imaaaaaginaaatiooooon.**


	3. Day 5

**Day Five: Central Arendelle Park**

**A/N: Guys, I can't reply to guest reviews lol. But to answer some questions: We're for sure going to hit the thirty chapter mark, like I said we're not gonna go day by day because who knows if Elsa and Anna are going to survive the entire year. Just kidding, I know if they will or not. Also, their source of income will be revealed in due time. And by due time, I mean this chapter. This chapter is due time. **

**Man, I wish I got paid to write fanfiction.**

* * *

Because Elsa's so freaking polite, she asked me what I wanted to do. Because I'm still semi-kicking myself for even agreeing to this, I tell her that whatever she wants to do is fine. Which is how we ended up walking around Central Arendelle Park.

I swear this city is straight out of some fairytale storybook. We have all four seasons, a gorgeous coastline, a low crime rate, clean streets, and in Central Arendelle, you have all the tourist traps you could ever ask for. Aside from the freezing cold winters, and the stupid amount of people moving in which spikes up the rent, Arendelle is perfect. Arendelle Towers, set smack dab in the middle of Central Arendelle, is five minutes away from anything you could ever want.

Run out of milk for your cereal? The grocery store's right down the street. Are you a middle-aged mom that wants to stay fit but won't invest in going to a gym? Yoga and spin classes are just one power walk away. Do you want overalls worn by three different generations of hipsters? There's like five thrift stores within a five-mile radius of each other.

I love it.

It's Friday, which means Central Arendelle Park is gonna be crowded no matter what time we go. I willed myself to wake up before 11 AM, and now I'm walking alongside Elsa with a large coffee in one hand, and a massive chocolate muffin in the other. She seems to be enjoying herself judging by the smile on her face, and the way she looks fondly at the trees lining the pathway.

Elsa's holding her hot chocolate with both hands and brings it up to her lips to take a sip, she sighs like it's the greatest drink she's ever had. She always did find a way to be content with just the simplest of things. It's one of the reasons why I fell in love with her.

No. Stop it. Bad Anna. Don't use that word.

"Thanks again for doing this, Anna," She says, "I was getting kinda stir-crazy staying in the room for the whole week. But I didn't want to spend the weekend doing stuff alone, either."

"No problem." I take a sip of my coffee. If I say anything stupid in the next few hours, I can just blame it on the caffeine high. "Is there anywhere specific you wanted to go?"

Elsa shakes her head, "You know me. I like to take in the sights, see what's around me and just appreciate it." Two little kids run past us and she looks back at them and giggles, "It's been a while. I think the last time I was here, I was…"

"With me?" I don't know why I asked that, whatever answer she gives won't be satisfying anyway. I take a bite out of my muffin to keep my mouth from saying any other stupid things for a minute. Again, I can just blame it on the caffeine later.

"...yeah." Wow, that was a lucky guess. Against better judgment, I sneak a look towards her to see how she reacted. In what's becoming a regular occurrence, she's smiling but it doesn't look like she means it. Maybe there's something on her mind too, something that's eating at her that she doesn't want to ask. I'm not gonna pry obviously, because I'm not talking to her about what's on my mind either.

What's on my mind right now? That damn day when we were last here.

It's Elsa's birthday, six months before I tell her that I love her (I can't stay away from this fucking word, ugh). Even though it's the middle of December, I don't tell her that she's crazy for wanting to walk around Central Arendelle Park. I don't tell her that I can feel my body freezing over with every step that we take. And I sure as hell don't tell her that I don't want to ice skate because I value my ass not having a million bruises all over it.

"You actually did pretty well for your first time," Elsa says as she takes another sip of her hot chocolate.

"I fell three times." Four if you count me tripping over myself and landing on top of Elsa, although that may have been intentional.

"That's still like seven times less than I was expecting."

I frown, "My bruise looked like a fucked-up butterfly tattoo."

"Yeah, but I helped make it better."

Wait, what?

After the ice skating fiasco, we went back to her apartment and she took me into her room to help "make it better". I couldn't walk much afterward, but it was worth it at the time. But there's no way she's referencing _that_, right? I turn around to ask her instead of letting it go, and that's when I see her wink.

I almost choke on my coffee.

When I get done with my coughing fit and the burning in my throat goes down, I see that Elsa's face is flushed and she's got a frown so guilty it would make a puppy jealous. I really gotta stop comparing her to a puppy...

"Sorry," she says, "I thought talking like that would make you more comfortable.

"Elsa, I don't-" Cough. "I don't know much about the talking-with-your-ex etiquette, but I'm pretty sure bringing up that we used to have sex isn't such a great icebreaker."

Elsa groans and her cheeks get redder than my hair. "I'm so sorry, Anna. I don't know how to do this either, this whole situation is just-"

"Crazy?"

She nods, "I know...that you probably have a lot of stuff to get off your chest. And so do I. But I figured we could first try to talk like we used to before, then the conversation would feel less jarring. I don't know, maybe it's stupid."

"No, it's smart." The fact that she even figured out that I had things I wanted to talk to her about is impressive. Then again, I probably wasn't hiding it so well, people say that I wear my emotions on my sleeve. Whatever that means. "I do have some things I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything." That's not a lie, but it's not the truth either.

I was so worried about confronting her because I didn't want to screw up our living arrangements and lose the money. But if she's offering to talk about us, then all that guilt is off of me. Win-win!

"Then let's find a spot and talk. So we can say whatever it is that we've wanted to say." I respond with a nod, looking way too long at her while she drinks the rest of her hot chocolate. "How about the lake?"

"Hmm? What about the lake?"

"Why don't we find a spot by the lake and talk there? It's summer, so you won't have to worry about having to walk across it." That was a lame joke, but hey at least she's not mentioning the fact that we used to have sex.

The walk to the lake goes by quicker than I thought it would, it's like we know exactly where to go without even thinking about it. Along the way she tells me that she finished the book that she was writing before the breakup and was looking for a publisher. I've read some stuff that she's written, and it'd be a shame if no one else got to. I tell her that I was working at a bar before the move-in, it was my third job in six months. To be honest, I was planning on quitting anyway. I don't really like staying in one job for too long, and I like drinking beer more than serving it.

The lake is packed obviously, it's one of the most popular places in Arendelle to take a picture for your Instagram. I already see five boyfriends taking pictures of their girlfriends along the shoreline.

Sarcasm aside, it's pretty fucking gorgeous. It's a massive, man-made circle perfectly constructed with a bronze fountain in the middle. Every hour, a fifty-foot geyser shoots up from the spout. There are ducks wading along the water and turtles swimming underneath. It's amazing. And crowded, way too freaking crowded.

There aren't any open benches and the gazebos are filled with birthday parties and teenage potheads, so we sit on the grass instead.

"It's prettier than I remember," Elsa remarks with a content sigh.

"Yeah, it is."

Same smile, same look. Elsa's here, but her mind's somewhere else. I try not to stare at her too much so she doesn't notice that I'm staring at her. Ooh, what a pretty lake am I right?

It's hot out here, and yet I'm still getting cold feet. This is my chance to finally get the answers I want without having to corner her. This is my chance to say what I want to say, and I can't. My mouth is all dry- just gonna go ahead and blame that on the coffee- and my mind's not being much help either. I mean, where do I even start? I could tell her how badly it hurt having to break up with her. I could tell her that I feel insulted that she thinks we can just go back to normal this quickly. I could tell her so many things, but what I want to say first is that-

"I missed you."

I blink, "Eh, uh...what?"

Elsa's picking at the grass by her leg, not looking at me. "I know you're probably upset or pissed at me because of how things ended. And you can blame me for that because it _was _my fault, but...Anna, I missed you. I really did."

"Oh." I can't say anything else right now.

She continued, undeterred by my lack of an answer. "I haven't forgotten about that day: December 19th, two days before my birthday, the day that...it happened. I thought that I'd never see you again after that, and yet here we are. When you e-mailed me, and I went into the interview for this contest, I knew how hard this was gonna be for me if we got chosen. But I still went, because I wanted to say that. I wanted to tell you that I missed you...and I'm sorry. For everything."

Wow.

I honestly never thought I'd hear those words from Elsa. But then, I honestly didn't think I'd ever see her again. And after all this time waiting to hear those words…all I can say is…

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"You're sorry? We broke up a year ago and all I get is that? No wait, excuse me you also said that you missed me. Really, Elsa? You sure as shit didn't seem like you missed me from the lack of text messages or phone calls."

"I was trying to give you your space! I thought that's what you wanted!"

"Since when did you start caring about what I wanted?! Do you know what I _really _wanted? I wanted you to tell me that you loved me too! That's all I wanted! I just wanted to hear those fucking words and you couldn't do it. I waited six months- _six months_\- to see if you'd at least think about saying it and you never did. And I _still _don't know why."

"Anna please-"

"No, shut up. You don't get to talk anymore."

Elsa winces, and I start to feel a little guilty. Maybe I should dial it back a little bit.

...nope. Fuck it, I'm going for the jugular. Elsa gave me the opportunity to finally speak my mind, so she should have seen this coming. All these words have been building up for months, and I bit my tongue because I knew that I fell in love with her for a reason. But to come back into my life and say that she was sorry and that she missed me? To say these things and make me more confused and hurt than I was before? Fuck that.

"Elsa, you were the _only _girl that I ever said those words to. Everyone I dated before you, and the shitty dates I went on after you, never made me feel the way that you made me feel. When I said I loved you, I meant it. I wanted you to know how much you meant to me, it took me weeks to even build up the courage to say it. And do you remember what you said to me afterward?"

No response. She's just looking down at the grass, but I know she's replaying that day in her head. My birthday.

"You said 'Thank you'. You. Said. _Thank you. _Like I was doing you a favor for saying the three words I didn't honestly think I'd ever tell anyone. I gave you that, I gave you my vulnerability, I gave you my hope, I gave you my _everything. _And you said thank you. You know what, Elsa? Thank _you_."

She's still looking down at the fucking grass, but her frown has gotten a lot deeper and it looks like she's close to crying. Maybe I _am _taking this a little too far, but I can't stop. Not yet. There's still so much I want to say.

"Thank you for showing me what I really mean to you. Thank you for making me wait for an answer that was never going to come. Thank you for taking my heart and never giving me yours. Thank you for making me fall in love with you. Thank you for the best two years of my life. Fuck you for the worst year of my life. And fuck you for reminding me of how much it still hurts! Fuck you, Elsa! Fuck you for making me love you so _fucking _much that I haven't-"

I stop myself.

There's something on the tip of my tongue that I just _can't _say even after all this time. I literally said "fuck you" to her like a million times, but I can't say...this. Because if I do, I'd have to truly mean it. And if I truly mean it, then I screw everything up.

I stop, too, because Elsa is full-on sobbing. And I'm reminded of how much I hate it when she cries because my chest tightens and I feel like I'm gonna cry too. I clench the grass underneath my hands to keep from reaching out for hers, suppressing my natural instinct whenever Elsa cries. She's not saying anything. No apologies, no swearing- although she rarely ever does anyway- and no more explanations. Just crying, and each shaky breath hurts my heart even more.

Damn it, Elsa.

And then she does something that I don't expect her to. Something that frightens me for some reason. I see her lean forward, and I'm scared she's about to pass out, but instead, she places her hands over one of mine and lays her head down on them. The tears seep through her fingers and land on mine, and she's whispering something I can't make out. Too shocked to move, I just sit and watch. And wait.

As I do, my heart rate finally slows to a normal pace, and it gets easier to breathe. The rest of the world comes back, and I'm reminded of where we are: at the lake, in Central Arendelle Park, on a Friday morning, and I just made Elsa cry.

Good job, Anna.

Good fucking job.

Elsa's sobbing eventually dies down, she didn't say anything coherent during the recovery. When she finally sits back up, she wipes her tears with her sleeve and she tries to smile but it's as if the act is too painful for her lips. "We should probably head back," she says in a hushed voice.

I just nod, keeping myself from saying anything else today.

The walk back to Arendelle Towers is quiet, so is the elevator ride, and so is the walk down the hallway. When Elsa opens the door to our room, she goes straight to her bedroom and closes the door. I do the same.

I don't leave my room for the rest of the day. Five feet away, all I hear is sniffling and typing. And then it's only sniffling. And then it's quiet.


	4. Day 7

**Day Seven: Meet Olaf**

You know, when I heard that our evaluator's name was Olaf, I kind of expected this big, beefy Russian dude with a scar on his eye and a tattoo of a bear on his arm. What I _got _was a twiggy, pasty white guy around my age with moussed-up hair, impossibly round dimples, and a suspicious feeling that he was a hugger.

And here he is, sitting backwards on a kitchen chair in front of me, tapping his clipboard with a pen, and smiling like I was his new best friend.

This was gonna be fun.

"So...Anna Reinhart? Wow, that's a really pretty name!"

"...thank you?"

"You're welcome!" He yelps. "Now I'm sure you know about the weekly check-in process, but I want to ease your worries right now before I start. Mmkay?"

"Mmkay." Why did I say that? I never say that.

"Awesome. Well, these check-ins usually take around ten minutes, and I ask you how you're liking Arendelle Towers, if you have any issues with the room, and how you're getting along with uh…" He makes a clicking noise and scans his clipboard with his pen. "Elsa Stark? Ooh, that's a pretty name too! You guys must have made a pretty couple."

Wow. Okay. I clench my fist to keep myself from doing something stupid. Maybe this is his first day on the job. "How long have you been doing this?"

"In a week, it'll be three years!"

Yeah no, he's definitely getting punched in the throat.

"Oh, and since you were able to last until the first check-in, I have a present for both of you." Olaf reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out two card sleeves that look like the same ones our room keys came in. He hands one to me, it's got a very official-looking seal with the hotel's logo on it, and the material is this firm cardstock. "These are your 'black cards': personal credit cards that allow you to buy food, clothes, and any other things that you might want or need!"

I blink, unsure that I heard that correctly, "You're fucking with me, right?"

He gasps, "I would never! This is standard procedure for every couple that makes it through to the one-week mark. It takes away the unneeded stress to find a job while still participating in this contest."

To be honest, a source of income hadn't even crossed my mind since I was set on spending as much time by myself as possible and mooching off my friends. But I'm not gonna say no to this golden goose egg. I slip the card out of the sleeve, it's a silky black color with a credit card number and security code, but no expiration date. I guess that's because the date is whenever we move out. "Thanks, I'll make sure to take good care of it," I say as I put the card in my pocket.

Olaf scribbles something on his clipboard and then looks at me, "Sooooooo how have you liked staying here in Arendelle Towers?"

Well, at least I can answer _that _honestly.

"It's a fucking dream, I feel like a celebrity or a millionaire or something. And it's great not having to wash my own sheets anymore because it was a bitch saving up all those quarters. But yeah, this is a pretty sweet deal."

"Isn't it?! Ugh, it's like a palace! Every square inch of this place is beautiful." I swear he goes off into some sort of dreamland for a second before writing something else down. "And are there any issues that you have with the room?"

Aside from my roommate? Haha, jokes.

"The pillows are a little lumpy." I don't tell him it's because I've been punching them.

Olaf nods, "Well we'll be sure to replace those as soon as possible. Now…" He leans forward and the chair groans, I'm afraid it's gonna snap and he'll fall and hit his face on the coffee table. As hilarious as that might be, I don't want to explain to the cops later why there's a dead evaluator on my floor. "How is your relationship currently with Elsa?"

Oh boy.

That's a loaded question.

We haven't talked much since that day at the park, then again she's also barely left her room. I wanna say that's fine and that I don't want to talk to her either, but every time I see that door closed, I feel this pain in my heart. What the hell is that?

I held on to that stuff- what I said- for a year. _A year._ At some point I sort of forgot about bits and pieces of the breakup, but I never fully forgot about it. And I didn't want to either. When I answered the ad, I knew it might mean confronting all those feelings and thoughts, but the money was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Should I have been nicer with my words? Probably. Did I want to? No. In some sick, twisted way I wanted to see Elsa in pain. I swear I'm not a sadist, but no one hurt me as much as her; and I subscribe to the philosophy that if someone hits you, then you hit back harder. But damn...I didn't think she'd cry.

I didn't mean to hurt her _that _bad.

Olaf's looking at me with a weird gleam in his eye like he's a tabloid journalist hungry for the most recent celebrity gossip. Before I tell him anything, I have to make sure of one thing.

"Will you tell her anything I tell you?"

He shakes his head, "I have to file a weekly progress report with Mr. Arendelle, but he only gets a general outline of how things are. Anything you say stays between you and me."

"Then it sucks. Living with Elsa sucks," I say bluntly. "We went to the park a couple of days ago, and she tried telling me that she was sorry about the breakup and I told her that was bullshit. I don't believe for a second that she's sorry. If the past year tells me anything, it's that she doesn't care about what I want or how I feel. She barely leaves her room too, which is just fine because it's not like I wanna talk to her anyway. And even if I did, I'd just tell her everything I said at the park. So what's the point, you know?" I sink into my seat and pick at the pillow on my lap. "What's the point?"

Olaf's writing something else down, and he's nodding and making affirmative noises while I'm speaking. When he gets done writing whatever, he looks at me and smiles, "So other than that, everything's okay?"

I scoff, "Okay? What part of this is okay? _None of this _is okay. I'm living with my ex-girlfriend for an entire year in a goddamn hotel room. Thank goodness we don't have to sleep in the same bed or else I would have moved out right away. I love having my own room that I don't have to pay for, but that doesn't change the fact that I hate doing this. I mean I get $100,000 afterward, but it's only been a week and everything's already gone to shit."

"Hmm, I don't think that's entirely true. You're still living together, right?"

"By force," I mumble as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Not exactly!"

"...what do you mean?" And why did he sound so excited when he said that?

Olaf produces a sheet of paper from his magic clipboard and shoves it near my face. It's got boxes and lines, and up top, in big, bold letters it says: **OFFICIAL RELEASE FORM**

"In the event that you and Elsa are unable to live with each other for any reason, all you have to do is sign this release form. One signature from each of you, and you'll be able to move out of your room that same day." I look back at him and I'm expecting some scummy, businessman grin, but instead, he's just got that same excited smile on. "So, do you want to sign it?"

I don't even hesitate to answer.

"Hell no," I say as I wave the form away. "I might hate this, but I don't hate this enough to give up $100,000 or this credit card. I'm stubborn, and whether she likes it or not, I'm going to stay." Granted, I don't know what Elsa wants and I'm also too stubborn to ask her, but I'd like to believe she hates living with me too.

To his credit, Olaf just shrugs and places the form back on his clipboard. I notice now that there's a little snowflake sticker on the bottom right corner. "Well if you ever change your mind, I'll draft up another form and have you sign it. Remember, in order for the form to be accepted, you have to convince Elsa to sign it too."

"Noted." It dawns on me that not knowing what Elsa wants might be a bad thing. "...what if Elsa wants to leave?"

"Then she'd have to get _your _signature." He points his pen right at my nose, I suppress my urge to shove it up his- "Unless she decides to just move out one day."

…

What?

I throw the pillow off my lap and lean forward. "You forgot to mention _that last part," _I say through gritted teeth.

He shrugs again, "You didn't ask."

"So she can decide to just move out and we can lose the $100,000 that way?" I glare at him so hard, I'm surprised that lasers aren't coming out of my eyes.

"If either of you moves out at any time, and you miss two check-ins in a row, that constitutes an unofficial release and you both will be evicted and lose the prize money." I swear I can see tiny little devil horns in that greasy hair of his. I don't remember Elsa telling me that rule on the first day, then again she was probably hoping that she'd never have to.

But now that I know this, I realize that me being a cold-hearted bitch to Elsa isn't the smartest plan. I mean it wasn't smart to begin with, but if I can't find a way to coexist with her, then she can leave at any time. And if she leaves, well there goes the money.

Olaf probably sees the battle going on in my head because he perks up and says, "But I'm sure you two will be just fine here!" It sounds like sarcasm, but I don't think he knows what that is.

I run a hand through my mess of morning hair and frown, "Then you obviously don't know me and Elsa."

"Well not yet! But I _really _look forward to working with you guys for a while. The last couple I worked with only lasted six weeks, so I didn't have time to get to know them all that well."

That's not reassuring at all.

I twirl a strand of hair around my finger, realizing that I'm gonna need some time to think about how I can, begrudgingly, make things right with Elsa. We have to get along, and that means I need to stop wanting to bite her head off. But that also means that she needs to be honest and upfront with me, I'm not gonna play this stupid game of Hi's and How are you's. I don't want to pretend that everything's just fine.

"Is there anything else?" I ask Olaf.

He shakes his head, "Nope! That's all for this week. Would you mind calling Elsa over here so that we can do her check-in?"

"Sure." Great, now I have to think about something to say. When I say that we haven't talked much, I meant that we haven't talked _at all_. Literally no words have been exchanged since we left Central Arendelle Park. I sit up and walk over to Elsa's door and place my hand on the frame.

Also, here's the thing: the wall between our bedrooms is paper-thin. I can hear everything that goes on in her room and vice versa. Which makes...certain nighttime activities challenging. But the wall between our bedrooms and the loft? Completely soundproof, I have no idea when she gets back and vice versa. And since I barely hear her at all when I _think _she's in her room, I can honestly say that I have no idea whether she's even here right now or not. Who knows, maybe she already moved out without me knowing it.

As stupid as it might be, I take a deep breath and actually think about my next words. It doesn't really help that Olaf is humming some cutesy pop song behind me. I knock three times on her door, "Elsa? You there?"

Five seconds later, her door slowly opens. She's got on jeans and a plaid, short-sleeve shirt like she's about to go to her part-time job as a lumberjack. There's bags under her eyes, but her platinum blonde hair is combed and braided. Because my eyes hate me, they're immediately drawn to the undone top button, revealing a black tank top underneath and a necklace with a ring on it that I've never seen before.

Why am I checking her out? And why does she have her backpack on too?

"I'm here," she says softly. "Thanks."

Without another word, Elsa moves around me and sits in the exact same spot that I was in, picking up and holding the exact same pillow I was holding. Before I go back into my room, I look back at her one last time. She's not looking at me, but I know her well enough to sense that she really wants to.

I close my door and collapse back onto my bed, grateful for the fact that _I _didn't dress up and stayed in my own tank top and sweatpants. As I'm in the process of "thinking", I magically fall back asleep.

* * *

**A/N: I think this is the first time I've ever used Olaf in one of my stories. **


	5. Day 12

**Day 12: The Letter**

"Don't you think it's a little early to be drinking, Anna?"

"Don't you think it's a little early to be on my ass, Rapunzel?"

Rapunzel rolls her eyes and sips her iced tea. We've been friends for five years, she knows me well enough to not take my bitchy comments to heart. Not anymore, at least. "All I'm saying is that I don't wanna see 'Drunk Anna' at 1 PM on a Friday."

"And you're not going to, I just…" I pause to grab a few peanuts to eat with my next sip of light beer. Even with the black card, I'm not going for the high-shelf shit, "I just need a couple, that's all."

"And you wanted to go to a steakhouse because…?"

I shrug, "I wanted steak."

She raises an eyebrow, "Uh huh, and it has nothing to do with the fact that you think the waitresses are cute? Or that you wanted to eat something that'd take a while to cook? Possibly so you can continue to avoid a certain someone that you live with?"

"...let's change the subject."

Rapunzel shakes her head, the frays on her new haircut shake slightly as well. It's been months, and I'm still not used to her hair going from a long and flowy blonde, to a short and bold brunette. It was a welcome surprise, though, I told her she needed to shake things up sometimes. "You're insane," she says.

"Yeah well you're friends with me, so what does that say about you?" Gosh, the peanuts here are so bland.

"Have you even talked to Elsa since you guys went to the park?"

"Not exactly," One of the aforementioned cute waitresses comes over to our table to top off my half-empty mug. "Thanks," I tell her, and it takes all my willpower to keep from winking. We're not here to flirt right now Anna Reinhart, so keep it in your pants.

When she walks away, I see that Rapunzel's frowning at me, "That's your last one."

I pout, "Fine. But we can't talk about you-know-who anymore."

"No deal. Why haven't you told her that you haven't moved on from the breakup?"

I take a big sip of my beer to avoid having to answer right away, and also because I have no idea what the hell to say about that. I don't do the whole "best friend" thing, I keep everyone at a safe and manageable distance, but if I ever _did _have one, it'd probably be Rapunzel. One of the reasons we're such good friends is because she's kept me from doing some pretty stupid stuff, and she's right about a lot of things. But I know she's wrong about this. I pull my lips away from my mug and frown when I realize that it's half-empty again.

"I don't know-" Burp. "-what the hell you're talking about. I've been playing the field since the breakup, and I've been-" Another burp. "-doing pretty damn well for myself."

Rapunzel drinks her ice tea and pulls away burpless, "You've been on twenty dates- yes I counted- since the breakup. You wanna know what I've noticed?"

"That...I've got serious game?"

I get a peanut to the face for that.

She's giving me a look that I've seen a thousand times: a smug grin with a head tilt, which means she's about to say something I'm not gonna like. "Anna Marie Reinhart," she says while emphasizing the middle name I hate so much, "You have a type."

I laugh out of instinct, and a bit too loud too if the other customers looking towards our booth is any indication.

Where is my fucking steak?

When I recover from the coughing fit I use to stop myself from laughing, I take another sip of my nearly empty mug and reply to my wonderful, caring, supportive friend, "First of all, fuck you for the middle name thing."

Rapunzel shrugs, no doubt feeling victorious at getting under my skin.

"Second of all, I do _not _have a type. Unless that type is pretty girls, in which case I do."

I'm gonna make a third point about how I _have _moved on from the breakup, but I'm interrupted by my other friend, Lilo, sliding into the booth next to Rapunzel. She's a kindhearted islander chick with impossibly smooth black hair that I met two years ago when I was delivering pizzas. Just like how I met Elsa…

"What are we talking about?" She asks before sipping her glass of water with a straw.

"We're talking about how Anna has a type."

Lilo nods quickly, "Oh she definitely has a type."

"I do _not _have a type."

"See? I'm not the only one that sees it."

"It's kinda funny that she doesn't see it."

"What am I not seeing?"

"It's really obvious, right?"

"It's super obvious."

"Okay shut up! Both of you!" Again, way too loud. People are staring now, and it takes longer for them to look away this time. I down the rest of my beer and glare at them. "Enough already, I do _not _have-" Burp. "-a type. So just drop it."

To their credit, they do stop talking. Lilo even runs two fingers across her mouth like a zipper. Rapunzel sips her iced tea, looking amused at her handiwork. I rub my temples with my fingers, thankful that that shut them up. But...damn it I'm curious.

I groan, "But if I _did_ have a type...what would it be?"

They turn to each other again, Rapunzel raises an eyebrow and nods her head towards me, Lilo nods. Finally wrapping up their brief, silent conversation, they turn back to me, and Rapunzel pulls out her phone.

"I have taken the liberty of gathering pictures of the last five girls you went on dates with." She turns her screen towards me and swipes her fingers to scroll through this hot girl slideshow. To my credit, I do remember all these girls. Things didn't work out for one reason or another, and a couple of them I just...didn't want to spend the night alone. "Notice anything that they have in common?"

"Uh...they're all super cute?"

"They're all blonde," Lilo states.

"What? That's not…" Rapunzel scrolls through the pictures again for my benefit and that's when the bell goes off in my head, "Shit."

"Very Scandinavian looking blondes too, by the looks of it," Lilo says as she grabs the phone and looks through the pictures, "Coincidence?"

I bury my fingers into my hair and close my eyes, flipping her off in the process.

"You should tell her what you're feeling, Anna," Rapunzel says with that soothing, motherly voice she likes using after lecturing me. "I'm sure she'll understand."

"I _did _tell her, and she started crying."

"Well yeah because you were kind of a witch about it." A soft hand wraps around my shirt- Lilo's, judging by the shell bracelet- and pulls it away from my hair. I look up at her, and she continues, "I'm not saying that you should get back with her."

"Not happening," I interrupt.

"I know, because of the money. By the way, is there a sibling version of this contest? I'd love to win $100,000 for putting up with Stitch living in my apartment."

"Still mad at him for killing your fish?" I ask.

"Among other things," she grumbles.

"I would still try talking to Elsa again, but be a little nicer this time?" Rapunzel says, still using that motherly voice, "I know that's not something you like doing. But who knows, by the end of this year you could have more than just the money."

I groan, "I'm not-"

"I'm not saying you should get back together with her. I'm just saying that you could at least be friends again, and that could make living with her a lot easier. Don't you think?"

Ugh. She's right.

It's something that I've been mulling over too, ever since Olaf told me that Elsa could leave at any time if she wanted to. I don't think merely coexisting is gonna cut it, especially since I go through a tidal wave of emotions every time I see her. If this is gonna work, I have to be an adult and actually talk to her about how I'm feeling. And try and hold off on the fuck you's.

"Fine," I reply with a huff, "I'll _try_."

"Good!" My friends say in unison.

Finally, _finally, _our food gets here, and it's the second most I've ever been excited to see a steak in my life. As the cute waitress places our food on the table, I notice that she also happens to be blonde. And that her name is Astrid.

And that she's slipped a piece of paper with her number underneath my steak.

* * *

Surprisingly, the thought of having a heart-to-heart with my ex-girlfriend made me lose my appetite. After getting a to-go bag for my food, Rapunzel and Lilo dropped me off at Arendelle Towers. Now all that was between me and another rough conversation with Elsa, was the hallway to our room.

Who's to say that she's even here right now? It's 3 PM on a Friday, maybe she's having a late lunch with her own friends. I mean she didn't really have friends when we were dating, but that could have changed in the past year. Look, I just need to knock on her door and see if she's here. And if she's not, then I can take a nap and hold off from having that conversation. Gosh, I hope she's not here.

I open the front door and say "Elsa?" and I realize that it's the first time I've said her name all day. It feels weird coming out of my mouth, like saying a word that I forgot was even a word. No answer, though, but I have to say that I at least tried harder than the bare minimum.

Once I place my leftovers in the fridge, I walk towards her door and take a deep breath before knocking on it. "Elsa? You here?"

No answer, unless you count the force of my knocks slightly opening the door as an answer. In which case, yes there is. I don't think I've ever seen her door open before, every time I come back it's either closed or she's closing it because she's going somewhere. Not only that, but I've also never seen her room before. I'm going through all sorts of uncharted territory before.

Call it bravery, or call it extreme nosiness, but I open the door the rest of the way and get my first look at her...completely normal room.

I mean we live in a hotel, what was I really expecting? We couldn't rearrange the place, and pinning stuff up on the wall wasn't covered in the costs, so decorating was out of the question. Still, it looks way too clean and untouched. Does she clean the place from top to bottom every time she goes out? You'd think that no one actually lived here if it wasn't for the notebook on the desk. And even that just looks like a guest registry.

I should leave. I really should leave. But...I don't want to. It's strange, Elsa's apartment in East Arendelle looks nothing like this, it's messier and the furniture is more antique and thrifty. Nothing about this room reminds me of her, but I can still tell that she's here. She sleeps here, writes here, watches TV here, changes and showers here.

Wait no, bad Anna. Not the time.

Elsa lives here. Five feet away from me. After a year of distance, we're only five feet apart and I...I need to sit down. My head's spinning and I tell myself it's from the beer and not the hundreds of memories flooding my head. I stumble to her desk and sit in her chair, pressing my fingers into my temples.

"Come on, Anna. What the hell's the matter with you?"

Deep breaths. Just gotta take deep breaths. One, two, three…

When I feel myself straighten up again, I reopen my eyes to continue recovering from that intense feeling. I've been angry, cried a lot, and threw shit and got into fights since the breakup, but I never experienced anything like _that _before.

I go to get up from the chair so that I can go to my own room and take a nap, and that's when I see the first two lines on the page of Elsa's open notebook: _Dear Anna…_

It's a letter, Elsa's writing a letter. To me. Was she gonna send me this? Was she even finished with it? No, I should leave. I should get out of here, this is a complete invasion of privacy and I should leave.

But I don't.

I sit back down and read what Elsa has to say.

* * *

_Dear Anna,_

_I just...I don't even know where to begin. I already said that I'm sorry but I guess that isn't enough. And that's not your fault, it's mine. All of this is my fault. I was selfish and stupid, and I know that we would have been just fine and we'd still be together if I had just said those damn words. But I couldn't._

_You have to know, though, that I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I couldn't._

_And I'm sorry. I know I already said that but that's all I can really say right now. I'm sorry, Anna. I'm so, so __SO __sorry for everything. Everything that you said to me at the park was true, I hurt you more than I know. Now I'm seeing how much I hurt you._

_This next year is probably gonna be hell for you, and that's all my fault. I'm sorry._

_Gosh, I keep saying it. I'm a writer, you'd think I'd have more words to say other than that haha. Ugh, maybe it's not the time for jokes yet._

_I want to make it up to you this year. If we're going to be living together, I want to finally take the time to make things right. And you can be as mean and rude as you want to be, because I deserve it, and hopefully that lets you get it out of your system. Hopefully, that gets you to a point where you can forgive me._

_But I know I owe you an explanation. Anna, I really want to tell you why I couldn't say those words. Something happened and I_

* * *

...that's where it leaves off. It doesn't look like Elsa's finished it just yet. I soak in every word that _is _on the page though, and there's that fucking tidal wave of emotions. I remind myself that I shouldn't be here, but I want to keep reading this letter because I guess I'm a glutton for punishment and I want to know how much pain I caused _her_. I want to keep reading the words I might never hear Elsa say. Because after reading this, I can't help but shake the feeling that-

"Anna? What are you doing in my room?"

I practically jump off Elsa's seat and face her so fast that my head starts spinning again. I haven't seen her in days, she's still wearing the same outfit from Sunday aside from the flannel being forest green instead of blue. Still with that ring around her neck, still with her backpack over her shoulder.

"Elsa! Uh hey, I...didn't hear you come in." Damn soundproof walls.

"I just got back and my door was closed, I didn't expect…" Her face goes from confusion to shock to fear. "Oh no."

All of a sudden she's pacing towards me, and I don't know why but I'm expecting a punch to the face. Elsa wasn't a violent person when I knew her, so I hope I'm in the clear. She doesn't punch me, but she does shove me out of the way so hard that I _would _have fallen had I not caught the edge of the table. "The hell?"

Elsa closes her notebook and clutches it tightly to her chest, "Did you read it?"

"Read what? The letter?"

She nods.

"Yeah, I did."

"Why?!"

"It was addressed to me, what else was I supposed to do?"

"_Not _go into my room and read through my stuff?"

"Your door was open!" It really wasn't, and I don't know why I'm trying to defend myself. I can say with complete honesty that I was wrong to even be here. But it was a letter written to me, and I wanted to know what was going on in Elsa's mind so bad that I...invaded her privacy. "I'm sorry, okay? I-I'll leave."

"Why were you even in here?! It's not finished yet…" She's glaring at me again, I'm not used to this emotion on her. But her hands are also shaking.

"Were you gonna give that letter to me?"

"I…" Elsa closes her eyes and shakes her head. When she opens them, she looks more scared than angry. Like even though this is her room, she's the one that's feeling cornered. "It doesn't matter anymore. Could you just leave? Please?"

"Elsa, what is-"

"Just leave!"

I wince, and my fists clench subconsciously. I don't like it when people raise their voice at me, but Elsa's in the right here. As curious as I am, I'm not gonna get any answers right now. Maybe ever thanks to how badly I fucked this up. "Fine, I'll leave," I say.

"Thank you. Please just leave, please..." Elsa says breathlessly. She's not even looking at me anymore. "Please go..."

I leave her room, and Elsa follows me out like an escort. I turn around to tell her I'm sorry, but she shuts her door before I can. And locks it.

When I'm back in my room, and I can hear that Elsa's for sure in hers, I hear panicked breathing and paper tearing. I should go in there and make sure that she's okay, but she told me to leave and I doubt I'm the last person she wants to see right now. Hell, to be honest, _I _don't want to see me right now.


	6. Day 15

**Day 15: Early Morning Blues**

It's 6:30 in the morning.

I'm never up at 6:30 in the morning.

Why am I up at 6:30 in the morning?

Oh right, it's because three days ago, I did a really shitty thing and I have to make up for it. And also because I haven't been sleeping well anyway since the words in that damn letter keep running through my head.

I've given Elsa her space- even more than before- but I'm impatient and I need to know what the hell's going through her head. So I'm up. I'm awake, barely, and sitting right in front of her door and waiting until she's awake so that we can talk. I know she's a hardcore morning person and that her brain is fully functional even at this ungodly hour, but does she wake up _this _early? For all I know, she won't be up for another hour. Or two.

This wouldn't be happening if Elsa would stop avoiding me so we can talk about what happened on Friday. This also wouldn't be happening if I just respected her privacy and not read the letter- addressed to _me_\- in the first place. This also wouldn't be happening if Elsa would have said: "I love you too".

Okay fine, I'm trying to take the blame off myself. I know I'm in the wrong here, I just…ugh, can I just be right for once? Just once?!

The only way I can think to even make up for what I did would be to talk things out with her. But our schedules are so misaligned- and, you know, she's ignoring me- that it's not happening. So I set five alarms, ballparked a good time that morning people usually wake up, and parked it right in front of her door. At least I have coffee and a bagel, thanks to 24/7 room service.

Look, I really do want to apologize to her. Yes, the letter was written for me but if she didn't personally give it to me, then I didn't have any right reading it. It's like finding your Christmas present too early and opening it. Sure it was for you, but you miss out on the whole giving part which is like half the fun of getting a Christmas present. Of course, I wouldn't know how that feels since my step-mom gave me the same shitty present every year anyway: a $5 gift card to Starbucks.

I wouldn't have wanted that letter as a present exactly, but still. Privacy is privacy. There's a difference between her not telling me something I want to hear, and me barging into her room and trying to get those answers myself. In short, I admit that I was a bitch. _In this situation._

I still think I'm right about all the other stuff.

It's been...shit, I don't know how long anymore. I left my phone in my room and I'm too lazy to get it. My butt's getting numb, and I've already drunk half my coffee. But I'm committed to this, half-asleep but committed.

Maybe if I went back to my room but kept my door open, I could at least hear when she wakes up and just come out of my room then. Or maybe I have enough time to call room service again and get Elsa some coffee and a breakfast sandwich. You know, as a peace offering. Or maybe I could-

_BEEP_

The front door. What the hell?

I'm up and out of my seat before it fully opens, and it's Elsa. I'm thankful that it's not a complete stranger who also happens to have a key to our room, but I'm also confused. How is she already up? And how long has she been awake for? I mean, _I'm _already up, but still.

"Elsa! Hey, I uh...I got you…" I nudge my half-empty cup towards her, "I got you coffee."

She's wearing her old NMU hoodie, and the bags under her eyes are competing in size with the one on her shoulders. She looks like she just got done with an intense study session at the library. I remember coming over to her apartment with a cup of coffee and a box of mint cookies before every big test she had.

When she speaks, it's quiet and almost a mumble, "Why are you in front of my door?"

"I...I just thought that…" Fuck it, I'm just gonna be honest. "I wanted to apologize for barging in your room the other day. It was wrong, and I should have just waited to talk to you instead of reading your notebook."

"Yeah, you should have," she replies with a tone as cold as the A/C.

She doesn't say anything else. I get the sense from her messing with the end of her braid, and looking back and forth between me and her door, that she doesn't want to talk.

"You...probably want to get in your room, huh?" I ask just to be safe.

"Yeah…"

Well this is going horribly, but I can't have her leave just yet. I did not wake up at 6 in the fucking morning just to have a ten-second conversation.

"Why are you up so early?" I ask. And so does she, at the same time that I do. We both stand still, waiting to see who will reply first, but I already know how this game is going to end. Elsa rubs her eyes with the palm of her hand, "I was at this diner, doing some writing."

"Oh. How'd that go?" That's a new change of scenery for her.

"Good."

"Oh, good."

"Yeah."

"So how long have you been up?"

"I've been awake since 3."

"Wow, that's like two hours after I went to sleep."

"Oh, that's cool."

"Yeah."

"Yeah…"

"I…" Nothing. I've got nothing, literally no words that I could say and make them come out of my face. Literally nothing. What is wrong with me? I talked this big game, told myself I had this master plan to get Elsa to talk to me, and now that I have her attention, I've got nothing worthwhile to say. Every question I have for her dies before it reaches my lips, like my mind has given up before I can even formulate the words. What's the point of asking anything anyway if Elsa won't do more than the bare minimum in this conversation? She's a morning person, this shouldn't be that hard. But it is, and I hate it.

Elsa's looking at her feet, not even bothering to meet my eyes, "Could I please go in my room now? I'm really tired."

"I thought you were a morning person."

"Not right now, I'm not."

Ouch.

This is pointless. Whatever talk I wanted to have with her isn't happening right now. I concede defeat by moving out of the way and putting my chair back in the kitchen. She's standing where I just was, and she's looking at me straight-faced, but her eyes have a pang of sadness in them that you wouldn't be able to pick up unless you dated her for two years.

"Thanks," she mutters while giving me a fake, half-hearted smile.

Part of me knows that this will most likely be the last time I see her today, maybe for the rest of the week, unless I say something. Which means it's now or never, Anna Reinhart, one last hail mary attempt.

"Elsa, wait."

But it's too late, her bedroom door's already closed. Just fucking great.

I sigh, "Nice going, Anna." With nothing else to do, I dump the rest of my coffee in the sink and walk back to my room. When I open my door, I hear Elsa reopen hers.

She looks around confused until she finally catches my eye, "Oh hey. Sorry, I...had to put my bag away." That shouldn't have taken so long, but whatever. "What is it?"

She's tired, really tired, and so am I if I'm being really honest with myself. I _want _to talk to her, but neither of us are in any shape to talk without our feelings getting in the way. Or rather, _I'm _not sure if my feelings will get in the way. But I have her attention, so I need to say something.

"Do you, uh...wanna do something today? After you get some sleep obviously."

Elsa squints her already half-lidded eyes. "Do something?" she asks with a mix of confusion and lethargy.

"Yeah. You know like maybe we can hang out and go somewhere. I'll let you pick the place too."

It looks like I've piqued her interest for a second, but that look goes away a second later. "Um, I actually have plans later today. Sorry."

"Oh." That might be a lie, I'm not sure. Elsa always had a knack for saying no without actually saying it. "Well how about tomorrow?"

I don't know why I asked that. If she didn't want to hang out today, I doubt she'd want to hang out tomorrow.

"Sure."

"Wow, really?" Holy shit, I need to go back to sleep. The caffeine is doing nothing, and my brain-to-mouth filter isn't working. It was surprising to hear her say sure, but I didn't have to question it. I should have just flashed my cutesy Anna smile and marched right back into my room. But instead, I questioned her, like a bumbling idiot. A sleep-deprived, privacy-invading, bumbling idiot.

Elsa just shrugs, "Yeah. I know it looks like I've been avoiding you lately- because I have- and I really want to stop doing that. Besides, there are more things I need to get off my chest, and I'm sure you have some more things to say too."

"I do, and I promise not to make you cry this time." I mentally slap myself, yet another thing I should have kept in my head.

I'm hoping Elsa just laughs that off, but she's taking too long to answer so that's likely not gonna happen. Instead, she frowns. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she replies, her voice faltering and shaky by the end.

Great job, you almost made her cry again.

"Sorry," I say. "Uh, you should probably get some sleep. And so should I."

Elsa nods.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?"

She hesitates and then nods again. At least I think she does, it may have been a trick of the light.

"See ya later."

"See ya."

When I get back to my room, it takes me less than five minutes to get back to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Not every chapter's gonna be as short as this one. Not every chapter's gonna be as long as this one either. Don't worry, the next one's a doozy.**

**...do people still say doozy?**

**Is that how you spell doozy?**


	7. Day 16

**Day 16: The Arendelle Public Library**

**Trigger Warning: Mentions of self-harm.**

* * *

You know, being the huge nerd that she is, I should have expected Elsa to want to hang out at a library one of these days. I just didn't expect it to be soon, and I didn't expect her to want to go where we had our first date.

There are five public libraries in Arendelle, with the largest one being in the northern part of the city. It's five stories tall, has an indoor aquarium and sculpture garden, and of course it has every book known to man. It's made from stainless steel with a skyscraper design, and the roof splinters into three jagged peaks. If not for the glowing purple and green lights illuminating the base, and the hundreds of children running around the water fountain, it'd be the perfect tower for a supervillain. It's a great tourist attraction, and it saved my ass so many times with my research papers.

That's not where we're at though.

Elsa wanted to go to the Arendelle Public Library, a few miles away from the suburbs near the edge of Central Arendelle. It's a lot more modest, with only two stories and a stone water fountain with tons of coins at the bottom from idiots who believe in that whole wishing thing. It's got a brick exterior that gives it this village bakery vibe, and I only came here when me and my friends wanted to do dumb teenage shit.

When I told Elsa that, she laughed and said she was probably inside studying while I was outside drinking and flipping off birds. This library holds a special place in her heart, so for her to take me here on our first date was huge for her.

Which has me wondering why we're here now.

Elsa sits on the rim of the fountain and sighs contently as she looks at the library. "Man, the last time I was here was…"

"With me?"

"Last week," she replies with a smirk. "Good guess, though."

I should sit down. I think. It'd probably be better than standing in front of her, holding our ice cream cups like a mannequin. But where? Sitting right next to her might make her uncomfortable, sitting far away would be stupid too, or I could also sit on the gross floor that I've seen a homeless guy pee on before. Maybe standing is the best bet.

"You can sit, you know. I'm not gonna bite," Elsa laughs and pats the spot next to her. And now I definitely want to stay standing. Her moods have been so unpredictable. Yesterday she wouldn't talk to me once she woke up, today she's acting like we're best friends catching up. If I sit down, what will happen?

Regardless, I do it.

"Thanks," she says when I hand her her ice cream. Mint chocolate...just like mine. "So you still like mint, huh?"

She got me into it one day when the gas station was out of all the other pints. It's pretty much the only ice cream flavor I eat now. "Nothing else sounded good," I reply.

Elsa takes a bite and smiles with her eyes closed, "Still the best ice cream in the city. The last time I had some _was _with you. Remember that?"

I do. She was overworking herself trying to finish her novel by the deadline, and I had to drag her out of the apartment so she could get some sunlight. I hadn't seen her for like a week before that and was getting kinda pissy, but hey she was also clearly exhausted and stressed out. A couple of guys set up an ice cream parlor right next to the library, so I made a deal with her: come with me to take a break and get ice cream, and I would let her go back to her apartment to finish her novel.

We ended up staying at the parlor for two hours.

"I was convinced the owners were gonna kick us out after we sampled their cheesecake flavor five times in a row," I say with a laugh of my own. It sounds foreign to me, and I realize that it's because I haven't really laughed in weeks. Not something as real as that one, at least. It's instinctual, there's still that damn spot in the back of my mind that makes me enjoy being around Elsa. No matter how hard it is.

"But they didn't. That was a...really nice day." Elsa takes another bite of her ice cream but doesn't smile the same way.

* * *

We sort of just sit there eating in silence, sometimes making silly comments about the people around the library. As delicious as the ice cream is, and as gorgeous as today is, they don't distract us from the real reason we're here.

We need to talk, about everything. Or at least we have to start. I'd be lying if I said I could control myself, there's just something about talking to Elsa that confuses all my emotions too. I wish I could just turn them off, but unfortunately, I'm stuck with them. Whatever, this needs to happen. No sense in stalling, just gotta rip the bandaid off. Again.

I take another bite of mint chocolate goodness for luck, "So do you wanna start or should I?"

She takes one too, possibly for the same reasons. "Well the last time _I _started, you- I mean, we…" She trails off, there's no need to recount what happened a couple of weeks ago.

"Right. Well, uh…" Breathe, Anna, let's just start with the easy stuff first, "Where do you go during the day? Like what do you do?"

Elsa's eyebrows furrow, clearly she thought I was going to ask her something else, "Um, well I guess that's something you should know. Sometimes being in my room sorta makes me anxious, too anxious. And I think it's because you're right on the other side of my wall, it just brings up so many memories. Memories that kinda...really hurt."

I nod.

"So sometimes I need to leave because it's too overwhelming, and sometimes I leave because…" Elsa looks down and her voice gets quieter, "...I go to therapy."

"...oh. You do?"

"Twice a week." She picks at a spot on her jeans and winces, it's barely noticeable but I know she does. "When we broke up, I realized that enough was enough. I couldn't keep hurting people that I...really care about. After the first couple of sessions, my therapist diagnosed me with a type of generalized anxiety. Which made sense, now that I look back at some things from my past."

"So how do they feel about us living together?"

Elsa lets out a nervous laugh and takes another bite before answering, "She's completely against it. Something about how seeing you again could have all these memories flooding back, and trigger a lot of anxiety for me."

"And does it?"

There's more silence, and the longer she takes to answer, the more she actually gives one. She looks at me after what seems like a minute and nods. I've barely said anything, and yet she's already on the verge of tears. This might be too much for her. I'm expecting her to say we should stop talking about this, but instead she continues.

"I...I know I already said that I'm sorry, and I know you didn't accept that. Which is fair."

"Elsa, it's not that I don't forgive you, it's just-"

"It's hard to. I know. If I was you, I'd find it hard to forgive me too. Seeing you makes me relive all those crappy few weeks before we broke up, and of course the breakup itself. It hurts, a lot. In my head and in my heart I just can't get the thoughts out of my head, and sometimes they get so overwhelming that I just…"

"Have to leave?" I definitely understand that feeling.

"No. I mean yes, but it's…" Elsa closes her eyes, "It's not just that."

"What do you mean?"

She doesn't say anything, and her eyes are still closed. Whatever she's not saying, it worries me more than everything she _has _said. I can feel it, like a chill that goes through my whole body, and I doubt that's the ice cream. "Elsa, what do you mean?" I ask again.

Her eyes are closed even tighter now, and I notice that she's clenching her fists really hard. Instinctively, I reach out to hold them but then I stop myself. We're not dating anymore, we're- well I don't know what we are now. I might be overstepping some boundaries, but I've seen something like this happen before and my mind always goes into comfort mode when it happens. And then suddenly her eyes are open again, she looks at me with a guilty expression, and she speaks three breathless words:

"I hurt myself."

The words drop into the pit of my stomach, and the chill that runs through me grows colder. "Why?" I ask her, just as breathless.

"There's so much stuff going on in my head all the time. And it's like it's really painful, like there's something in my skin. So I need to do something, _anything_, to stop the pain or- or cut it out."

I look down at the black tank top she's wearing and frown, "I don't understand. Your arms look fine, I don't see-"

"They're not on my arms."

"Then where…" And that's when I notice something. It's only April so it's not entirely out of the ordinary, but most of the time I see Elsa she's wearing jeans. And on the rare occasion that I catch her at a time she's not going anywhere, she's wearing sweatpants. I haven't seen her wear shorts, and I haven't seen her legs.

"It started a couple of months after we broke up. I was with this guy named Hans who was kind of a jerk all things considered. He didn't hurt me or anything, actually, it was the other way around. Two weeks into our relationship he tells me that he's falling in love with me, so I ghosted him. I get a text from him later that said some really hurtful stuff and they reminded me of stuff that you said during the breakup."

I wince, it never feels good to be compared to a jerk.

"So I was reading that, and I realized this never-ending cycle I'd put myself on. This happens every time I get close to someone. They fall in love with me, and then I hurt them, and they leave, and it's all my fault. And that was running through my head so much, and I got really panicked and scared, it felt like something was crawling under my skin. So I took a knife from my kitchen and I…" Elsa runs a finger horizontally across her thighs. A tear falls onto her jeans.

"When was the last time that you…?"

She looks at me, almost scared, and says, "After we got back from the park."

Shit.

"Elsa, I'm _so _sorry, if I had known that you were hurting this bad-"

"No. Don't apologize. You have every right to be mad at me because _I'm _still mad at me. If I had only just told you that-"

"Stop it," I tell her. Too loud, if the way she twitches- and the way the other people around the fountain look at us- is any indication. But it's not just my volume that I need to keep in check. It's only now that I notice I've moved closer to her. And it's only now that I notice my hand is on top of hers. I immediately pull it away once I realize this, muttering a quick "Sorry". So much for keeping my distance...

"My therapist and I have been working on different ways to cope- healthier ways. It's just been really hard these past few weeks. Remember that letter you read?"

I bite my lip, "Yeah?"

"Well, that was sort of a grief exercise. She knows I love to write and wanted me to write a letter to something that I'm grieving. Or someone, in my case. I'm supposed to write the words that I wish I could have said or stuff that I want to say but can't."

I think back to the words in the letter, realizing that it was more honest and vulnerable than Elsa usually was. Not that she wasn't honest, but it was a level I hadn't seen before. And now, knowing that they were words she wished she could say, I feel even dirtier having read it. "Were you going to give it to me?" I ask.

"I don't know. What you read was actually my fifth draft, I just can't get the words right."

"You're telling me that the famous author, Elsa Stark, is having trouble with words?"

"I'm not famous," she rebutted.

"Yet."

Elsa rolls her eyes but doesn't do anything else. She could have snapped at me and told me to stop teasing her like she did the first day, but she didn't. That means I lightened the mood, even just a little bit, which was something she liked about me while we were dating. All it'd take is just one dumb joke, one silly comment, one curse-fueled rant about my day, and whatever was on her mind wouldn't seem so bad anymore.

I just figured that right now, she needed that. Although it doesn't look like it's doing much.

"I think I've grilled you enough for one day," I say as I take both of our empty ice cream cups and throw them in a nearby trash can. "Why don't you ask me something now. Anything. Nothing's off-limits."

Elsa raises an eyebrow, and once I sit back down she asks, "Seriously?"

I should say no, I should tell her that there are some things I'd rather she not ask me, but I don't. I asked her something that turned out to be really personal, and she shared more than I thought she would. And I'm not too much of an asshole that I wouldn't hold myself to that same standard. So even though my brain is screaming at me, I take a deep breath and nod.

"Oh, okay then." Elsa looks down at the floor, also seeming like she's hesitant to say anything. She takes a deep breath of her own and speaks cautiously, "Do you...do you hate me?"

Oh, wow. Didn't think she'd go straight for the hard question.

Do I hate Elsa? I mean the fact that she never said "I love you too" really hurt, and made me second guess our relationship and her feelings for me. And apparently I have a type of girl that I'm attracted to now thanks to her. And of course, there's the whole rant I unloaded on her about not caring about how I feel or want. But...damn it.

"No, I don't."

And I mean that.

Elsa looks at me confused, "But at the park…"

"I mean yeah, that was stuff I needed to get off my chest, but that doesn't mean I hate you. I hate what you did, but that doesn't mean I hate _you_." I bite my tongue to keep from continuing, saying those words out loud made me realize how ridiculous they sounded. The word "hate" was still used, if I were Elsa I wouldn't be reassured at all.

And the way that she wraps her arms around her stomach, and shrinks into herself even more, tells me that she isn't. "How could you not hate me, Anna? I mean you said it yourself: you hate what I did."

"Because…ugh, you know I'm not good at explaining things. I'm not like you."

"I know."

"I guess it's because…" I take a deep breath- the exhale's way louder than I think it will be- and run my hands through my hair. "You know how many girls I've dated before you, right?"

"Seven." Of course, I bet she can name them all too.

"Well it was different with them. I liked them, yeah, and I had fun with them and made some great memories, but we knew going in that the relationship wasn't going last. I never had that whole 'where do you see this going' talk with every girl I dated, except for you. You were different."

That perked her up, I could see it from the twitch of her lip. "How?"

"I actually had that conversation with you. Remember?"

"Three times, I think. Or at least that's how many I remember."

Maybe three official times, but I know that I used to casually mention all the time about how important the "girlfriend" word was for me. "Do you remember what I told you?"

She nods, "You said that I was the only one that you ever really called your 'girlfriend'. And that it felt like every other girl before me didn't count."

"And I meant that. So you wanna know why I don't hate you?"

I shouldn't say it. I really, _really _shouldn't say it. They're words that will be hard to come back from, and could jeopardize our whole situation. I don't know how Elsa will react, and what she'll think, so I should just keep my mouth shut or make something up. But damn it, I know that won't work. She knows when I'm lying, apparently I have a tell that she refuses to disclose. And when she looks at me with those stupid, baby deer eyes and loosens her grip on her stomach, I know I'm fucking putty in her hands. So even though every part of me is telling me not to, I say it anyway:

"Because I loved you too much to hate you."

Elsa's reaction is immediate. She opens her mouth to speak, only succeeds in letting out a choked breath, and then that one tear that fell earlier turns into five, then ten, then more than I can count. I didn't even say anything mean this time, and I _still _made her cry.

Anna Reinhart: Relationship extraordinaire.

Her eyes are shut tighter than the grip she has over her stomach, and she's leaning forward so much that I'm afraid she's gonna fall over. The sound of the fountain behind us just barely covers the sound of her sobbing and sniffling. People are looking at us again- because of course they are- and as much as I want to flip them off, I want to comfort Elsa even more.

Call it instinct, or call it me wanting to clean up my mess. Either way, I need to do something.

"Elsa hey, come on. Please don't-"

"_Stop talking_. _Please_."

Yikes, that's the second time this month that Elsa's been this demanding towards me. The crying quieted her reply, but it didn't do much to dull the sharpness of it. It's all she says though, before she goes back to shaking and sobbing, and I just have to sit there and realize I'm the asshole that did this to her.

Again.

So that's all I do. Just...just sit there, and keep my mouth shut. It's maybe a minute or two that Elsa does something other than cry. She shifts in her concrete seat, and I'm expecting her to stand back up and say that we should go, but instead, she scoots closer and leans on me.

_She's leaning on me._

_What the fuck?_

Again, though, I don't even say anything. I don't even move. She's still crying, so I just let her and keep my hands on the fountain. I don't know what's gonna happen after she stops crying, maybe I'll cut off my tongue so I never say anything stupid ever again, or maybe I'll move out to spare her the heartache and anxiety attacks. Or maybe...maybe I'll stay. Whatever anger I had is still there, but it's simmered down a hell of a lot. There are still some questions I need answered, and there are some things that Elsa still needs to work through.

I'm not saying that living together is a great idea- because it sure as hell isn't- but I think it might be good for both of us. In some weird, twisted way. It can help us sort some shit out.

Plus, the $100,000.

And that's what goes through my head as Elsa continues to cry on me, even when the tears start soaking my third-favorite shirt. I just think about the money, and think about us.

What I think about more is anyone's guess.


	8. Day 17

**Day 17: Bellyache**

**A/N: Sorry for the late-night update y'all. Worked a nine-hour shift today and I felt like baking a pie so I did that instead. This will be the last chapter I post before Frozen 2 comes out...which is something I never thought I'd say. Holy shit, Frozen 2 comes out on Friday. **

**You already know ya boy's gonna watch it on opening night. Anyway yeah, back to the swearing and awkward romantic tension.**

* * *

"_So you just let her lean on you?"_

"What else was I supposed to do? Push her off?"

I finish filling up my water bottle and exit the gym, thankful that I didn't get taken down by a punching bag this time. Man, it says a lot about my current situation that that's a big victory for me. Obviously, me and Elsa didn't do much talking after the whole crying on me thing; and we didn't talk much when we got back to the room either. But I needed to unpack everything that happened, and praise be to Rapunzel that she happened to call me at the tail end of my workout today.

"_Well no, but are you sure that letting her do that was smart?"_

"Of course not," I press the button on the elevator, hoping that I get an uninterrupted ride this time. "But ugh, if you saw the way she was looking at me...I couldn't just push her away, Rapunzel."

"_It worked the first time."_

"_Wow_, fuck you."

"_Okay so maybe that was a little too harsh, but you know I'm right."_

"It's different this time, and you know it." The elevator doors open, and two people behind me go inside before I do. I force myself to not roll my eyes.

"_Right, this time there's money involved."_

"It's not just that, I-I don't know it's kind of hard to explain. There's some things she said yesterday that got me thinking." The elevator stops on the third floor, and two more people pile in. Great…

"_Thinking about what?"_

"About her. Wait no that sounds weird."

"_Not for you."_

"I hope you know I just flipped you off in an elevator full of people." I didn't, but it was funny seeing everyone turn to look at me when I said that. Whatever, I'm getting off on the next floor anyway.

"_So what have you been thinking about?"_

"I'm just...worried about her, I guess. Some stuff she said was really worrying, and it doesn't seem like she's turned into a social butterfly in the year we've been apart. I feel like I should be there for her."

"_Do you _have _to? She has family, doesn't she?_"

"Yeah, but I'm the one that's with her practically 24/7. That means I'm like her first line of support or something. Look, you'd understand if you were there with us."

"_Are you gonna talk to her today?"_

Ninth floor. Finally. I step out of the elevator and let out a mental sigh of relief. "That depends on whether she wants to or not. The last time something like this happened, we didn't talk for days."

"_But do _you _want to talk to her?"_

"I...I don't know. I'm at my door now, so I guess I'll find out in a little bit."

"_Okay. Just be careful, Anna. This thing between you and Elsa is fragile, I don't want to see you get hurt again. And I'm not just saying this because you promised me a cut of the money if I got you out of the room once a week."_

"I will. Anyway, I should get inside. I'll talk to you later."

"_Mmkay. Bye."_

"Bye."

This would probably be the time where I'd take a few seconds to brace myself for whatever's waiting for me behind this door, but I feel too sweaty and gross to do that. Priority number one is for me to take a shower. Priority number two is, well, everything else. And yes, that includes deciding whether or not I want to talk with Elsa any time soon.

Besides, it's not like she's waiting behind the door when I open it.

I retreat into my room, lock my door, and quickly get into the shower. The hot water here is, of course, better than anything I'm used to. They probably got it from some private island or rainforest or something. It feels amazing on my skin, and it's definitely what I need right now. The warmth wakes up my brain or whatever, helping me think more clearly.

I think I do need to talk to Elsa about what happened yesterday. No matter how uncomfortable the conversation might be, I'm still convinced that I should get it out of the way as soon as I can. Of course, this all depends on whether or not Elsa even wants to talk today.

It's weird, I know that I did something wrong yesterday- which is hard to admit- but I'm not sure what it was. It could have been me using the big "L" word again, or it could have just been the stress of that whole talk getting to her. After all, she did tell me to stop talking in a tone that, if I'm being honest, I would have found really attractive if we were still dating.

And I can say that with zero shame. Because of who I am as a person, I was more of the bossy and assertive one in the relationship. She let me pick and choose most of what we did, which I had no problem with. But on the rare occasion that Elsa took charge, and was as headstrong and stubborn, and used a tone that I can only describe as a sexy Catholic teacher…

Mmph.

Of course, she was also crying so I really shouldn't be thinking like that. But I am because I'm a fucking deviant.

I get out of the shower before I do something shameful and pick out the clothes I want to wear while I'm watching TV in bed. It's really not that hard of a job, all I do is put on underwear, and whatever clothes I slept in the night before. I really don't have any plans to go anywhere any time soon.

But before I can get comfortable, there's a knock on my door and the sound of a familiar voice.

"Anna? You in there?"

It's Elsa, of course it is. If the slightly timid voice didn't give that away, then her rhythmic knock on the door sure did.

"Uh yeah, give me a second." Well, this is a first. At least _she _has the decency to knock before barging into someone else's room. I open the door, and there she is. Standing in front of me, wearing an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants just like me.

I wonder how many scars are underneath them.

"How can I help you?" I ask like I'm the most awkward receptionist ever.

"Hey, um sorry if I'm disturbing you or anything," she says while playing with the ends of her perfectly straight hair- even when she wakes up there's not a hair out of place, it's magical. "I just hoped that we could talk some more today?"

Oh, it looks like she beat me to the punch. The way she's looking at the ground though makes me weary, "Are you sure you're up for it? Because we don't have to talk today if you're not." Even though _I _also feel like we should.

"No it's fine, I-I...there's something I should tell you that I wanted to tell you yesterday. It was just hard to because…"

"Because of me, right?"

And now she looks up, "Sorry."

I raise an eyebrow, "Why are you apologizing? I'm the one that said something stupid."

"It wasn't stupid, it was unexpected." Elsa sighs and leans on my door frame. "After everything that happened, I never expected you to say those words again. Even if it was in the past tense."

"Hey, what happened was in the past. I don't hold it against you anymore."

"Uh, it kind of sounds like you do."

"I _did_, and now I don't. See? Past tense." If Elsa could read my mind, she'd see how I was kicking myself for lying to her. Well if she could read my mind, she'd already know that I'm lying to her. I mean, it's only half a lie to be fair. I'm kind of spiteful, and again if someone hurts me, then I hurt them just as bad- or worse. So I still harbor some resentment towards Elsa, but...something holds me back from my spite levels being at 100%.

Well, whatever it is, I don't think I'm going to figure it out by the end of this conversation. Elsa's biting her lip and frowning, either she isn't convinced or something's really bothering her. I'd put down $100,000 on it being the latter.

"I just don't see it, I guess," she replies, "Again, if I were in your shoes, _I _would want to make me pay for everything that I did."

"You need to stop being so hard on yourself. It's not a good look for you."

Elsa's visibly hurt. She's frowning and winces like she just got pinched. "Um...gee, thanks." I'm expecting her to just go back into her room after that, but she stays where she is. That was such a stupid thing to say, she's already depressed and anxious and I basically told her she looks ugly because of it. How she put up with me for two years, I'll never know.

"I-I just mean that-"

"Please stop."

"Er, uh...okay. Sorry." Not a good time for my spine to start tingling, damn it.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, it wasn't right." She takes a deep breath and her face is a little more composed, "Can I just say what I need to say? After that, I'll leave you alone."

At this point, I have no idea what's gonna happen if I say anything, so I keep my mouth shut and nod.

"Okay. Well, there's a...c-can we sit down first?"

"Yeah sure." The logical thing to do would have been to walk into the loft and sit on the couch, but instead, I move out of the way and gesture towards my bed. Elsa steps inside without questioning it, which I guess is good. But it's also not because, well, she's in my room.

She's in my room.

How did this happen? How did we get here?

Elsa closes her eyes and takes another deep breath, and another. And another. I don't know what to do, she was never like this before and I have a hard time being a soothing person to begin with. I'm afraid she's gonna pass out, and I'm thinking of at least putting a hand on her shoulder so I can catch her if she does, but she stops after four breaths. She looks at me and I quickly put my hand back on the bed, hoping that she didn't notice.

"Before you and I started dating...there was someone else. I met her the day after my 21st birthday, and I know it sounds a little cliche, but we were at a bookstore and she grabbed for the same book that I was. It was the last copy. She and I got to talking a little bit, and she said that she'd let me buy it if I promised to give it to her when I was done. She wrote her number on the back of the last page."

That's frustratingly adorable, Elsa and I met because I was delivering a pizza to her apartment. It was the wrong pizza too.

"377 days. That's how long we dated." I want to make a comment about how crazy she is that she remembers dates and numbers this well, but I keep my mouth shut. I'm more curious to see where she's going with this.

"And it was amazing, you know? She got me to try out so many new things, go to new restaurants and places I'd never been before- I tried Thai food for the first time because of her. I was finishing up my degree, so we'd have a lot of dates on campus. She almost convinced me to get a tattoo because she had a lot of them and wanted us to get matching ones. But I said I wanted the first one to be special and didn't want it to be an impulse decision. We never did end up getting one…"

Tattoos definitely aren't something I'd ever see Elsa getting. In fact, she was completely against the idea when _I _talked about getting a tattoo. Whoever this mystery girl was, she had to be someone special to get her out of her comfort zone. And that...that pisses me off for some reason. Why? Shit, am I jealous? I better not be, or I swear.

"She was gorgeous. Not just how she looked, but like her mind too if that makes any sense. She was so outgoing and bold, the definition of a free spirit. The way she talked to me, and about the future, it was like she saw me as her ride-or-die kind of girl. And, to be honest, I think I saw her in that same way."

My fists clench my sheets underneath me, and I place them on my lap instead. I'm definitely jealous now. Especially because Elsa's face is so relaxed and happy. Like genuinely happy, something I rarely saw these days. But that happiness went away quickly, and now she was frowning. I'd be lying if I said that wasn't a little bit of a relief.

"I was young and stupid- I mean I'm only 25, so I guess I still am- and I thought...I thought we were on the same page. On my birthday, I told her the words that you told me, and she said them back."

Breathe, Anna. Don't say anything stupid. Stop dwelling on the fact that she could say "I love you" to this mystery girl, and not to you. Even though you guys dated for two years, and she admitted that you were the best girl she'd ever dated. And despite the fact that you guys also had some pretty good memories too. Like that time you guys got conveniently lost on a trail through the Arendelle Mountains so that you could watch the sunset alone. She _loved _that. And so did you. And you loved her.

Don't say anything like that. Just breathe. And let her finish.

"I was happy, I really was." I'm now noticing that she's speaking slower, deliberately, like she's trying to get the words right. Or because it's getting harder to speak about this."I...again, I was stupid. I believed her, but after that day she started getting more distant, she had less time to spend together, and some days I'd rarely hear from her until the end of the day. I thought that maybe she was just busy, her family had a lot of problems so maybe something was happening there, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. But this kept happening and I was getting worried- about her, yeah, but mostly about us. And then one day-"

She stops. It's abrupt, like a rollercoaster shutting down right before the big drop, and just as dangerous too. Her arms are wrapped around her stomach again, but instead of leaning forward, she leans on me again. And like last time, I don't move her. Unlike last time, though, I place a hand on her back.

If it's too much, she doesn't tell me. Even though my brain is telling me that it is. But she's sniffling now, and I feel teardrops land on my lap. I could never sit and do nothing whenever she cried. I always comforted her, even if I was the one having a shitty day.

We're not dating, this shouldn't be happening, I shouldn't be doing this. That's the thought that keeps running through my head as she cries, but I don't listen. Elsa needs me right now- I mean she needs _someone _right now, and I'm the only one here. So it has to be me. I think so, at least. She continues just as suddenly as she stops, but the words come out strained and shaky, "I went to her apartment. And she's in bed with this _guy._"

And now I want to kick this mystery bitch's ass.

It wouldn't even be the first time I'd fought somebody, no one suspects the 5'4" girl with pigtails to put them in an armbar after they get too handsy. Hell, one time I smacked a guy with his own guitar at a party after he tried to roofie my friend. But I can't do that right now, so I resort to just rubbing Elsa's back in the most rigid, appropriate manner I can.

"The horrible part was I would have still found a way to make it work with her after that. But she said that it was over. 377 days, Anna, and it was over just like that." It sounds like it's taking too much effort to speak, I need to give her a break from that. Besides, I can put the pieces together from here.

"So, me saying those words reminded you of her?" I ask Elsa.

She gives me a meek nod, "I hadn't dated anyone before you, and I thought that you were really nice and sweet-"

I snort, "Really?!"

And hey, she laughs a little bit through all the sniffling and coughing, "In your own special way, yeah. You thought I was just shy at first- which is fair- but I was actually scared of dating somebody again. I figured that at least we'd have fun together and I could finally feel comfortable getting into the whole dating scene. But you...you gave me _so _much more than that, Anna."

Damn it, I can feel my face heating up. Elsa's even smiling at me. All that crying from before, and now she's smiling. "You're welcome," I say with a smug little smile, to hopefully mask the fact that I'm blushing.

But it doesn't seem like Elsa notices. "Then _you _said those words," she continues with the admiration on her face disappearing, "And I...I couldn't say them back. I was scared that once I did, you'd hurt me too."

"Elsa, you know I wouldn't have done that. Trust me, it was hard to say that I…" Stop, don't say it again. You remember what happened last time. "It was hard to say those words, I don't like being vulnerable."

"I know."

"But I wouldn't have hurt you. In fact, I probably would have jumped your bones right then and there if you'd said it back."

Elsa laughs and wipes the tears off her eyes with her palm, "That's good to hear, I guess."

"And I wouldn't have left you either, or had sex with some random guy. I think you and I both know what my preference is."

"Definitely. I just...I was scared. Really scared."

"I know. And I finally get why." Wow, a huge weight feels like it's been lifted off my shoulders. I finally understand after months of not knowing why, and I can finally stop playing the guessing game. And it feels good, but...something still doesn't sit right. Because some random girl had hurt her long before we were even a thing, I never got to hear the words that took _me _a year to say. It feels like I lost out on an amazing future because some bitch broke Elsa's heart.

And then, well, I guess I did the same.

Who knows how much I set Elsa back, I mean she said that she hurt herself because of things I said. I can't be mad at her anymore, and yet I still sort of am. And that makes me sick to my stomach.

Literally, it feels like I'm going to throw up.

"It's okay to be scared, Elsa," I say while trying to ignore my insides threatening to come up for air, "But I'm still here. Even after everything."

"Not by choice, though."

"I'm sorry, who was the one that called about the contest again?"

"I mean that you're just here for the money," Elsa says bluntly, "Am I right?"

"Kind of," I reply, but it doesn't sound like I'm confident about that. "The money would definitely help, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't...want to see you again."

"But why? I hurt you, and you still want to see me? Why would you do that to yourself?"

"I hurt _you, _but you're still here. You still did the interview and everything. Why did _you _do that?" I hope she doesn't notice that I'm taking a page out of her book and putting an arm around my stomach. I didn't want to answer those questions, because I feel like they would have just made the pain worse. And also because I don't know the answers to them.

Elsa looks down at the floor like a sad puppy, "I don't think I'm ready to answer that yet." I think I've made her uncomfortable. When she takes my hand off her back, I _know _I've made her uncomfortable. Damn it.

"That's okay," I reply, "You don't have to. Everything you just told me today had to have taken a lot out of you."

She nods.

"I'm really happy that you told me what happened, though. You can tell me anything, Elsa."

"It's not that simple, Anna."

"I know. But hey, we've got a whole year, right? I think aside from a couple of roadblocks, we're going at a good pace. Who knows? Maybe in a few months, we can actually have dinner together."

"Maybe," Elsa says with a small smile.

_Wow, _my stomach is killing me now. It's getting to that point where I won't be able to hide the pain on my face much longer. I need to get her out of here so I can go throw up or something. Besides, I don't think she has much more to say anyway.

"Hey, I need to actually use the bathroom. Do you want to talk some more or…?"

Elsa shakes her head, "No. That's...I think that's all I can talk about right now. You can do whatever you need to do, I have therapy in a couple hours anyway."

"Oh, okay." I stand up, thankful that it relieves a little bit of pressure from my midsection. The pain, however, seems to have gone to my head, because I say something that I don't expect myself to: "Can you tell me how it goes?"

"...are you sure?" Elsa looks as confused as I feel.

I can't turn around and say no, because that might hurt her more. Sure she looks confused, but I can also see a sliver of happiness in her eyes. It's not that I _don't _want to know how Elsa's doing, it just might be too much too soon. I don't want to overwhelm the poor girl by making her tell me things she's not ready to tell me. I've hurt her enough, you know? And there's something else too...something I won't admit and drive it away from my mind as fast as possible.

Something that might explain the stomach ache.

"Yeah sure, you can tell me anything." Why didn't I just stop at "Yeah sure"? I fucking hate myself.

"Oh. Well, um...okay. I-I'll let you know when I get back, okay?"

"Great. Now if you don't mind, I uh…" I point to the bathroom door.

Her eyes widen, "Right! Sorry, I'll let you go now. Sorry."

She walks towards the loft, and I walk towards my bathroom ironically hoping for a breath of fresh air. But when my hand touches the doorknob, Elsa says my name, and I wince. This woman is gonna kill me.

"Sorry. Again," She says when I turn around to meet her guilty look, "I just wanted to say, um…"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For listening to me, and for understanding. This was really hard for me to admit and I honestly never thought I would. So thank you for being here, even though I know you probably don't want to. I want to finally tell you everything in time, I don't want to hold any secrets from you. I can't make up for what I did, but at least I can finally tell you why. And I hope it means as much to you as it does to me."

I...I don't know what to say. I can't even blame my stomach either, because it seems like it's calming down now. And I think Elsa catches on to that, "You don't need to say anything. I just...yeah, I needed to tell you that. Thank you, again. And I'm sorry, again. I'll leave you alone now."

I wait until I hear her door shut before I retreat into my bathroom. This has been the most eventful morning since we got here, and right now I'm not sure how I feel about that. I don't throw up, or do much of anything really. I just sit in my bathtub wondering where the hell we go from here.


	9. Day 49

**Day 49: Probably Means Nothing**

"Well, you're in a much more chipper mood this week."

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, "Please never use the word 'chipper' to describe me ever again."

"How about swell?" He replies with that same annoying optimism I've grown used to. Maybe "used to" isn't the right phrase, it's more like I've begrudgingly accepted it.

I sigh, blowing an unruly strand of hair off of my nose, "Look I'm doing okay, alright? If you want to use a word to describe how I'm doing, then there it is. I'm _okay_."

Olaf begins writing on his clipboard, there's two snowflake stickers on it now. "Anna Reinhart is doing okay," he narrates, "And does not like the use of the words 'chipper' or 'swell'." It's been weeks now, and at this point, I've done enough of these check-ins to know that he's fucking with me. He's an idiot, but he's not oblivious.

"Can we just get this over with, please?" I tell him.

"Ooh, what's up? You got a date? A cute date? Are you guys going to brunch? I _love _brunch!"

Of course he does. "If by date, you mean going back to sleep- and if by brunch, you mean having a pizza delivered to our room- then yes. It's 9 in the morning, you already know I hate waking up this early." Which I do, but he doesn't need to know that I'm also tired because Elsa and I spent last night watching cheesy action movies.

It's weird how much we've been getting along since she told me about the Mystery Bitch™. The only new information I've learned is that I was the best out of her exes to...you know, but that's more than enough for now, I guess. The past few weeks we've been spending more and more time together and we've kinda settled into a schedule. Mondays and Wednesdays she spends a lot of time outside the room because of therapy and whatever other Elsa business she gets up to, and then I usually spend a couple random days out of the week outside the room entirely. When I get back from the gym, or she gets back from the library, we've started spending time together in the room.

It's a new normal, a weird one.

She doesn't open up much about her therapy sessions, and I know better than to push her too hard about that. I wonder if Olaf knows about them? And what has Elsa been telling him about us?

"So tell me about you and Elsa."

I blink, "Wh- I'm sorry, what?"

"How have you and Elsa been getting along this week?" Olaf asks as he crosses one leg over the other.

"Aren't you supposed to ask me about the room first?"

He shrugs, "Sometimes I like to mix things up."

"Bullshit, you just like fucking with me."

"I can neither confirm nor deny that," Olaf says with a cheeky, close-eyed smile. "Besides, were you even gonna tell me anything else this week besides how lumpy the pillows are?"

"...me and Elsa are just fine."

To my relief, he isn't all smug about getting me to answer his question. He scribbles on his clipboard and nods like he's having a conversation with himself. "Any complaints?" He asks.

Uh...I don't really know how to answer that. I can't really complain about how we're spending more time together, and I can't complain about how she still doesn't really talk to me. I can't complain about this weird spot that we're in right now, because I'm not sure what I want from us. Does there even have to be an us? Does there need to be a label? We _could _stay how we are now, I'm sure that will get us through the rest of the year, but this new normal still feels fragile.

Like one fuck-up from her or me (probably me) will have everything crashing down again. I don't know, this whole living situation is still all kinds of weird and life would be so much easier if we were already at Day 365. Life would also be easier if me and Elsa had never broken up in the first place. Wait that doesn't sound right. I like where my life is at right now...at least I should. I get to live in a huge-ass tower, don't have to work at a shitty bar anymore, and I can eat all the soup, roast, and ice cream that I want and not feel guilty about it. Life is good for me right now, but life was good for me then too...

Anyway, those don't sound like complaints, it'd sound more like venting. And I am not going to spend my Sunday morning venting to a squirrely guy in an untucked white shirt. Besides, this check-in's gone on long enough.

"No. No complaints. I just want to go back to sleep." I rub my eyes with my palm to show him that.

Olaf marks his clipboard a couple times and makes happy, little noises with each scratch of his pen. What a weird guy, you would think Mr. Arendelle would have someone less...weird to be doing these check-ins. But whatever, there's a reason why he's a billionaire, and I have to keep making excuses for why my rent's late each month.

"Then you and Elsa are still comfortable with these living conditions? No need for a release form?"

"Not from me. You'd have to ask Elsa if she wants one."

He raises an eyebrow, "Do you _think _she'd want one?"

I frown, "Kinda feels like you're going off-script."

"You don't have to answer that, I was just curious." Sure he was. "I've been working with you both for almost two months now, I was hoping to get to know the two of you better."

I raise an eyebrow, "That sounds like you think we're gonna stick around long enough for you to get to know us," I reply, trying to fish for more information.

Thankfully for me, he's pretty transparent. "Of course! I like you guys, and think the two of you must have made a _really _great couple! We haven't had one of those in a while, so it's nice to finally have two people here that I enjoy checking up on." This is maybe the fifth time that he's brought up how good of a couple we must have been, and that's five times too many. The strength I have to resist hurting him is amazing. I can't say the same for this pillow on my lap though.

Maybe I should tell him to replace this one too.

"And what if I _don't _want to tell you anything about me?" I ask him.

"That's okay too," he replies. If he's offended by that question, then he doesn't show it. "I know that you and Elsa are very different people. Just because she opens up, doesn't mean that I should expect you to."

"Wait, what? What does she say?" Ugh, I didn't mean to ask that. Curse my inability to hold my tongue at the worst possible times.

"Nope! Can't tell you."

Great job Anna, you just blue-balled yourself. "Does she talk about _me_?" I ask him hopelessly.

"That is classified, madame."

"Oh come on, you gotta tell me something."

"Why do you want to know so much?"

"I don't, but _you're _the one that made me curious and said that Elsa talks to you. I just wanna know if she talks about me, that's all. Just give me like something. Does she think I suck? Does she want to move out?"

"Anna, I feel like these are questions you should be asking _her_."

"But she-" I stop, finally realizing that my tone is getting _way _too aggressive. Plus, the poor pillow's got another few loose threads from my fingernails digging into them. And damn it, he's got a point. I didn't realize how much I wanted Elsa to actually talk to me until now.

But why? Why do I care so much about what she thinks of me? We're not dating, so it doesn't really matter that much. And being friends with your ex still sounds like a horrible idea to me, because...well now I don't really know anymore.

What _do _I know anymore?

Wow, it did not take much for me to go through an existential fucking crisis. I need to go back to sleep.

I shake my head, "Look it doesn't matter. We're fine, my pillows still suck, and I still want to live here. Check-in done now?"

"Mmhmm, I've got all the information that I need," Olaf says like I didn't just interrogate him for information about Elsa. "Would you mind getting-"

I'm already up and out of my seat and going towards her the door. "I know the drill."

Oh, and there's one thing I forgot to mention to Olaf- and by forgot, I mean that I was never going to tell him. Instead of getting each other's new numbers or something like normal people would do, we've adopted another way of seeing if one of us is in the room. Well, it's more accurate to say that _I've_ adopted it.

I raise my fist to her door and do the thing: one knock, two knocks in quick succession, and then two final knocks spaced out from each other. It sounds way more cutesy in person. And dorky. So of course Elsa was the one that came up with it. Why did _I _start doing it? Because I was too lazy to come up with my own signal.

I see Olaf raise an eyebrow and grin, to which I just roll my eyes in response. A couple seconds later, Elsa's door opens and she greets me with a smile like I just showed up with her pizza all over again. I hate that my mind immediately goes to that memory.

She's wearing a solid pink tank top and jeans. Damn. She told me that she hasn't cut herself since that day at the park, and I believe her, but it's discouraging to see that she's still wearing jeans.

"Thanks," Elsa says as she closes her door. "Oh, um...do you...want to go watch a movie or something later? If you're not busy, of course."

It takes a little bit for me to register that she asked me a question, when it does I just sort of make weird throat-clearing noises and shake my head. "What? Uh, sure. Sure, I- yeah that sounds fine. Sorry, I had kind of a late night."

"I know."

Uh...hmm. The way she says that makes me know that she doesn't mean anything by it, but damn if my head doesn't come up with a million reasons why she said those two words. I want to ask her more, but she's already sitting on the couch before I can make more words come out of my face.

That's fine though, it's not like this'll be the last time I talk to her today. After all, we're going to go watch a movie together.

...we're going to go watch a movie together.

Together.

She asked if we could watch a movie together.

That probably means nothing.

* * *

**A/N: Frozen 2 was fucking amazing. I cried. I've already seen it twice. **


	10. Day 51

**Day 51: Get Out**

Sunday was fine.

We watched the movie, went back to the apartment, and that was that. Stop asking.

We didn't talk about what she and Olaf talked about, we didn't talk about what _me _and Olaf talked about, and we didn't talk about why she's still wearing jeans. We just talked about fun, cute memories back when we used to date.

For example,the first time I heard her sing was while I was hiding in her bathroom trying to surprise her. I freaked her out so hard when I pulled back the shower curtain, that she fell and twisted her ankle. And then I had to take care of her for like a week.

Ugh.

At this point, I really don't know what I want anymore. Life was good when we were dating, life sucked afterwards, and now life right now is...both? A weird mixture of both. It's good that I don't hold any of that resentment towards her anymore, but it sucks because things are still awkward. It's been two months, and we're still trying to figure out how to act around each other. Elsa said she wanted to watch a movie together because it was recommended by her therapist that they spend more time outside the room.

So it wasn't like she was asking to spend time together just because she wanted to. Then again, she could have also not done that.

No, now that I think about it, I do know one thing that I want: to get changed. I've been standing here in my underwear staring at the clothes on my bed for who knows how long. I just got back from the gym, and I'm supposed to meet Lilo for lunch, which means I needed to actually shower and look presentable. And because I'm me, the process of getting ready to go anywhere takes me like an hour.

But standing in my underwear like a braindead swim instructor isn't part of the process.

It''s just hard to wrap my head around Elsa being in my life again in any capacity. And yeah, it's kind of my fault that we're even in this mess to begin with, but I feel like we can do this. What's ten more months, you know? It can't get any weirder than it already is, right?

There's a knock on the door, Elsa's knock. "Anna? Can I come in?" She asks.

"Uh yeah, sure," I say on instinct. I mean it's not like I'm doing anything right now anyway. And who knows, maybe she's got something to say about our weird situation-

Oh fuck, I'm still not dressed.

Time goes by in slow-motion as I weigh my options. I could scream at Elsa to get out before she even comes in, I could run to the door and close it before she opens it, I could run to the bathroom and hide in there. Yeah, that sounds like the best option, I should do that.

But I don't, I just freeze and look at my clothes like they're gonna fly onto my body any second now.

But they don't, and Elsa opens the door. "Hey I just- agh!"

I do end up doing one of the options actually, I scream at her and cover my already clothed parts with my hands. "Get out!"

Elsa's already closed her eyes and covered them with her hands, "You said I could come in!"

"Well I lied!"

She's still here, still covering her eyes, "Why are you even- you know what? I don't wanna know."

"Could you please leave?!"

"Okay fine, I'll go! I'm sorry!"

Elsa shuts the door and mumbles out another apology. What the fuck is wrong with me?

The stupid part of this- aside from the obvious- is that I don't even get changed right after she leaves. I flop onto my bed and scream into my pillow while my clothes sit a foot apart from me. Mocking me. Before I pick my pathetic self up and get changed, my shitty mind produces one more stupid, unhelpful thought:

It's not like she hasn't seen me naked before.

* * *

It takes me a few more minutes after getting dressed to fully recover from the mortification. Part of me just wants to stay in my room- I'm sure Elsa would understand- but damn it I still need to meet up with Lilo. I open my door against my own will and let out an immediate groan.

"Sorry again."

Elsa's sitting at the kitchen table with a guilty frown on her face and a mug in her hands. Knowing her, it's probably coffee with three sugars. I don't think she should keep drinking coffee if she has anxiety, but whatever I'm not her mom.

Or her girlfriend.

Anymore.

Damn it brain.

I shake my head, "I don't know why you're saying sorry, I was the one that said you could come in."

"I know, but just the way that you sounded it...I was scared you were mad at me."

I laugh, or at least I make a noise that's supposed to be a laugh, "Trust me, if I'm mad at anyone, it's me. I must have given you the wrong idea what with me being naked and all."

Elsa raises an eyebrow, "But you weren't naked?"

"I was basically naked," I push away the awkward subject with a wave of my hand and sit across from her, "So what's up?"

She blinks, "Uh...oh right. Um, I was wondering about something, and I wanted to ask you about it."

"Shoot." No seriously, shoot me. Preferably in the head.

There's this cute thing she does whenever she's too shy to ask me for something: she'll tap her fingers on whatever she's holding and bite her lip, and if she's not holding something then she'll just tap her fingers together. It was pretty cute, and she's doing that right now to her mug, and it's still fucking cute.

"So, uh...if I remember correctly...your birthday is on Saturday right?"

Oh wow, she remembered. Wait, what am I saying? This is Elsa we're talking about, of course she remembered. June 21st: the day my mom reluctantly gave birth to me, the day she bailed on us eight years later, and the day I told Elsa I loved her. It's kind of an all-around shitty day, but I get a free gift and dinner from my friends so it's not all bad.

"Yeah, it is," I say. "Why?"

I swear her finger-tapping gets faster, "Do you- I mean, what are you planning to do to celebrate?"

"I'm actually gonna meet up with my friend in a little bit to talk about that. But you know me, it's always the same thing every year: sleep till noon, get some stupid party hats at the dollar store, and have someone pay for my dinner."

"Yeah, I forgot," Elsa says with a laugh. A very fake and pitiful laugh. "Well good, I was worried that you weren't gonna celebrate it since you're stuck here with me."

"Bullshit."

"What?"

Damn it, I wasn't supposed to say that out loud. Ugh, there's no use explaining myself, I just gotta keep stirring into the skid. "Sorry, I just mean that...I know you're lying, Elsa. Something's bugging you, and you can tell me what it is. Also I'm not _stuck _here with you, I could leave at any time if I wanted to."

Elsa's gaze lowers to the floor and she gets really, _really _sad. Way to go, Anna.

"I- shit, that's not what...look I mean that I can go to other places and stuff like that. I don't mean that I'm just gonna leave you randomly one day and screw you over with the money. I'm not _that _heartless."

It doesn't look like anything I'm saying is making her feel even a little bit better. I swear if I make her cry again from saying something stupid, I'm going to jump out of my fucking window. "Elsa I'm sorry, that was really mean and I shouldn't have-"

"I know what you mean," She says. "Don't worry. Sorry, I just overreacted."

"No, I said something really shitty. You shouldn't have to apologize for that."

"Could we just move on? Please?" She asks with a tone that I'm getting all too familiar with: that pained, assertive, scary, sexy tone. I haven't heard it in a while, but it still makes me putty in her hands and I'll do anything she asks.

So, I move on. "Okay, well was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"No, I just...was hoping…"

"Hoping for…? Elsa?"

I know she wants to ask me something, but I can't just push her for an answer because that never works. There's no way she just brought up my birthday out of the blue to make sure I was doing something for it. It looks like she's in pain, or thinking really hard about something, or both. What could she possibly have wanted to- oh wow, I'm a piece of shit.

"Did you want to do something for my birthday?" I ask, finally putting the pieces together.

She looks at me, opens her mouth, and then shuts it and shakes her head. "It's stupid, forget I said anything." I see her move her chair to get up, but something comes over me and I stop her. Physically.

I put my hand on her arm.

No time to dwell on that right now, we can focus on the stupidity of that move- and why it makes my stomach feel weird and gross- later. "Elsa, please sit back down."

"I…" She sighs and settles back into her chair. "What is it?"

I move my hand far back onto my side once she's sitting. "I'm sorry, I should have invited you to dinner. When you asked me if I was doing anything for my birthday, I thought you just wanted to know. I didn't think that you'd want to do something."

She's doing the finger-tapping thing again, slower this time. "It's okay, I should have expected you to have already made plans. You've already got something going on that day, so don't let me get in the way of it."

"You wouldn't be getting in the way! It's just dinner, hell I won't even ask to have you pay for me," I laugh because it's supposed to be a joke. I realize after saying it that she definitely won't take that as a joke. And she doesn't from the way her frown grows. "Wow I am _really _bad at this. Elsa, just...would you please join us for my birthday? I'd feel really shitty if I just left you here while I was out having fun with my friends."

Elsa shakes her head, "You don't have to invite me because you feel guilty."

"Well what if I _want _you to be there?"

"How? You didn't invite me in the first place."

"I'm inviting you now, aren't I?" I can tell that I'm not convincing her at all. And this isn't all just some ploy for me to save face, I _do _want her to be there. When I picture my birthday dinner, not having her in the picture just doesn't feel right. It didn't feel right last year either, now that I think about it.

I sigh and try a different approach, "Elsa...I really _do _want you to come. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you know that birthdays for me haven't always been the best time so I just sorta forget about them when it comes up. Remember when we were dating, and you had to remind me about it like the day before?"

She nods, and I can see a small smile forming at the corner of her lips.

"It wouldn't feel right without you there. And if that isn't enough to convince you, then I will literally do anything you want if you come with me on Saturday." I go to place my hand on her wrist, but second-guess myself and just place it next to her mug- which I now notice has hot chocolate with melted marshmallows in it I. And, in a tone of voice I rarely ever used with her unless I really wanted something, I say softly, "Please?"

It takes all of my willpower not to be too smug when it works. Elsa lets out a breath, "Okay. I'll come."


	11. Day 55

**Day 55: Happy Birthday, Anna**

**A/N: Hey guys, I just wanted to let you know that after this chapter, I'll be taking a year-long break from writing again.**

**...kidding. I'm kidding. Please don't leave. **

**But I _did _want to tell you that I am also going to be posting this story, and all my previous ones (even the ones I've deleted) on my A03 account I just made. I'm not moving or abandoning this account, I'm just crossposting there too. The account name is the same as this one (djupcake), so it should be easy to find. Just felt like it was time, you know? Anyway, back to the story. **

* * *

The greatest gift I ever got from my parents was my high metabolism.

I'm sure it'll come back to bite me in the ass when I get older, but right now I can eat as much as I want and not gain any weight. I'll wake up the next morning feeling just fine too, it's like a superpower. It doesn't extend to hangovers, unfortunately, but nobody's perfect. Hence why my restaurant of choice this year is this hole-in-the-wall diner with the greasiest burgers and fries in the city. I'm officially 24, I'm gonna exploit this as much as I can until I get old and can't eat cheese or whatever.

Jane looks at me in disgust as I eat another fry off our big party plate, "I cannot understand where you put all that."

"In my stomach?" I respond as I dip another fry into my chocolate shake. "Don't be jealous just cause acid reflux made you its bitch."

She scoffs in response. Jane's always been snooty and pretentious but in an endearing way. We were friends when we were kids until her parents dragged her on a missions trip or something, we didn't reconnect until a couple of years ago. I give her shit all the time, and she does the same to me. Real recognize real.

Lilo snickers and grabs a couple of fries of her own, "Birthday girl's got a point."

"Well don't be surprised when you wake up in a few years and your pants are three sizes too small," Jane replies.

"I give it _two_ more years," Rapunzel says as she winks and sips her water through a straw. Like a weirdo.

What an amazing, supportive group of friends. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm surprised I even have friends to begin with. Rapunzel turns to the other blonde woman at this table, "What do you think, Elsa?"

Elsa flinches in the middle of a sip of her vanilla shake, surprised that she's being talked to. It wasn't like she was being ignored, but I did tell them to not ask her any awkward questions so she's not uncomfortable. I guess Rapunzel didn't think what she asked was awkward. She swallows and wipes her mouth with her napkin, "Uh, about what?"

We're all bunched together at this table in the corner of the diner, with three of us one side and two on the other. Guess who's at the two-sided part with me?

I have to keep from glaring at my friends as they've shifted forward in their seats, waiting for Elsa's response. They didn't have any problems with her joining us, so I know they're doing this more to mess with me than to make her uncomfortable. But I still want to make sure they don't cross any lines.

"How long do you think it'll take for Anna's 'superpower' to bite her in the butt?" Rapunzel asks her.

"Oh, well uh…" She looks at me like she's waiting for some sort of approval, I shrug as if to say that she can go ahead and say whatever she wants. "I think she'll be okay. For a little while."

Gee, thanks Elsa.

"So how is it like living with Anna?"

I swear I feel my soul leave my body. I turn to Lilo with a death glare, and she just mouths the word "What?"

"You don't have to answer that, Elsa," I say to Elsa, trying to steer us away from this increasingly invasive line of question. I told them _so many times _not to make things awkward-

"It's nice."

Wh-what?

We're all looking at Elsa now, with my friends waiting eagerly for her to keep talking and me bracing myself. Did she just say it's nice living with me? I'm not sure how I feel about that.

"What do you mean?" Jane asks.

"I...well it's been nice having her around again, that's all."

This is definitely a conversation that I feel like I shouldn't be around for. In fact, I'd much rather be anywhere than here right now ironic considering this is _my _birthday dinner. At the same time, I'm hopelessly curious as to what else she might say. She _knows _I'm right next to her, which means that she knows I'll bring this up the next time we're alone.

Alone? Gah, why does that word sound so weird?!

"So you guys are doing okay after the breakup?" Rapunzel says.

Nope, I can't do this. I can't keep bracing myself for whatever else my friends might ask. "Oh my gosh, you guys," I groan.

"What? I'm just curious."

"Well be curious about something else. Or, you know, let's just drop it. Birthday girl's orders." Now would be a great time for a waiter to come around and get our dishes or whatever, but this diner doesn't have waiters. Who was the idiot that picked this place?!

"Fiiiiiine," Rapunzel says, no doubt feeling accomplished for successfully messing with me. "Well in any case, happy birthday Anna. Twenty-four is a magical time and I hope you make the most of it."

I roll my eyes but can't hide the small grin that appears on my face, "You say that every year."

"And every year I mean it!"

"Yeah happy birthday, grandma," Lilo says before sticking out her tongue. She's only two years younger than me but loves making me feel older than I really am. I want to kick her underneath the table, but I'd probably hit Elsa too. So I just flip her off instead.

"Now would you like to see what your friends slaved over to get you this year, Ms. Reinhart?" Jane says as she materializes a gift bag out of thin air.

"Yes I would, Ms. Hard-To-Pronounce-British-Last-Name." I hear Elsa snicker next to me. At least it seems like she's enjoying herself.

"So remember when we were at that outlet mall a few months back?" Jane continues, wisely choosing to ignore my remark.

"You mean that place where I broke a VR headset after running into a wall?" This time Elsa giggles, I can't lie...it's kind of satisfying knowing that I can still make her laugh. And I sorta missed her laugh. That's an okay thing for me to say, right? It doesn't sound weird at all? Gosh, why am I making this so weird?

"Well, _before _that happened, we were looking at a certain shop. And I remember you commenting on a certain jacket that you really wanted."

As soon as she says jacket, I gasp, "You didn't!"

Jane nods, she's almost as excited as I am, "We did." She slides the gift bag towards me, "Happy birthday, love."

I _respectfully _grab the bag and rummage right through the gift wrapping. What's waiting for me is exactly what I'm expecting but still surprising to see: a gorgeous leather jacket with a velvet interior, and a collar with a rose engraved onto it. Jane and I were walking past this clothing store with some pretentious-sounding name and I saw this jacket through the window. When I ran into the store to try it on, I loved it even more. And then I checked the price tag…

"How the hell did you afford this?!" I ask as I unfold the jacket to look at the thing in all its leather glory.

"They had a summer sale going on, and it was like half off," Rapunzel answered. "You probably won't be able to wear it for a few months since it's still hot outside, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up."

I hug the jacket close to my chest, it's cool to the touch. "Ugh, I really don't deserve you guys."

Lilo snickers, "We know."

"It does look really nice, Anna." I turn to see Elsa smiling and looking at the jacket too, I think she might actually be happy for me. I don't know why I find that weird, I just kinda do. It might be because I don't expect her to be happy for me anymore, which is also a weird thought. Why are all my thoughts so weird right now? Or am I just having normal thoughts and telling myself they're weird?

I'm just gonna try on the jacket now.

It's an awkward thing to do since I'm too stubborn to get out of my seat- I'm pretty sure I almost wack Elsa with one of the sleeves- but I find a way. It fits just right and is as cool on the inside as it is on the outside. "I never want to take this off," I say as I hug myself like the lonely bitch that I am.

* * *

The night winds down after that. The conversation turns into my friends roasting me about dumb shit I did in the past. Elsa doesn't chime in with anything, seemingly content with just listening and laughing along with them. I noticed that she was glancing my way a lot, but I don't judge her for that because I feel like I've been looking at her a lot too. I just want to make sure she's comfortable, okay?

I know that's not my job anymore, but I was the one that really wanted her to come so I have to make sure she's still enjoying herself.

When the fries are almost gone, that's when the night really ends. Jane and Rapunzel drove here together, and they both have work in the morning so they leave first. And Lilo leaves shortly after them when she's done ordering enough food for a small village ("Nani would kill me if I didn't bring home food for her and Stitch.") And then it's just me and Elsa, driving back to Arendelle Towers.

She takes the side streets so there's less traffic, but that means it'll take a little longer to get back. Which means more time for conversation. Which is fine.

Totally, absolutely, completely fine.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight," I say to Elsa so it doesn't look like I'm going to ignore her for the whole drive.

She smiles, in the darkness I can't tell how genuine it is, "No problem. Thanks for telling me to come, it was fun. Your friends are nice."

'Heh, yeah they've gotten me through some pretty tough shit," I don't go into details. Especially because some of that shit had to do with her. This is supposed to be a good night, and I'd like those to outweigh the bad ones for once. "I hope they didn't make you feel too awkward though. I told them not to."

"Oh...you didn't have to do that. I'm sorry." Damn it, even in the darkness I can tell the smile's turned into a frown.

How am I _so _good at making her feel bad? Or maybe it's because it doesn't take a lot to make her feel bad? Either way, this isn't her fault. "No, it's okay. I wanted you to come, but I also wanted to make sure you weren't uncomfortable. This whole thing is still weird, you know?"

"Trust me, I know," she replies, "But tonight was fun. I'm assuming you love the jacket."

"Ugh, yes!" I'm still wearing it, even though I was burning during the walk from the diner to the car. "It makes me just wanna like buy a motorcycle, drive out into the countryside, and get in a barfight with a sleazy trucker."

Elsa giggles, "Well when you get that $100,000, you can make that dream come true."

"Absolutely. Just gotta wait three hundred more days."

"Three hundred and ten."

"Close enough."

"Yeah...you're right…"

Another lull, the same one that sank in when we first got into the car. The quiet streets and the dim streetlights are supposed to be soothing, but they just make the weird tension here even worse. We can't keep this conversation light and breezy, or any conversation for that matter. There are too many things we still have to unpack, too many words that we didn't get a chance to say before, too much history.

Hell, there's a lot of stuff to unpack just from tonight.

I cough, "So hey, um…"

"Yeah?"

Wow, this is harder than I thought it would be. You would think we'd be experts by now at bringing up touchy subjects. Or at least I would, considering my penchant for putting my foot in my mouth. "When we were at the diner, you said it was nice having me around again. Did you mean that?"

A small noise, a slight hesitation, whatever Elsa wanted to say first is something she holds back. "Yeah, kind of," she says instead, "I really did miss you, Anna. I know I probably don't have the right to, but I did. And despite all the stuff that's happened this past couple of months, I'm glad that we're still talking at least."

"Oh. Well, that's fair. I...I think I feel the same way."

"You don't have to."

"I know I don't have to, but- ugh, you know I'm shit at talking about my feelings. You kinda voiced what I was thinking, I guess. Honestly. I mean that."

Elsa doesn't respond, but I know there's something she really wants to say. Her fingers are tapping against the steering wheel. "What is it?"

"Do-do you...is it nice having _me _around again?"

Damn it. That's a fair question for her to ask because I asked the same thing, but I still don't want to answer it. I don't know how she'll react to any answer I give her, especially the truth. Because the truth is…

"I don't know."

"...oh." She doesn't say anything else. And it's only until we go under the only light on this street that I see she looks hurt. Of course that made her feel bad. Why wouldn't it? She said she misses me and it's nice having me around, and in some twisted way, I said the opposite.

"That doesn't mean I don't like having you around, okay?" I explain, hoping that'll put her at ease. "It just means that I don't know how I feel about it yet. It sucked at first I'll admit, but it's getting better. I'm still confused, that's all."

"That's fair."

"I'm sorry if that upsets you. You were honest with me, so I wanted to be honest with you."

"I appreciate that, and I understand where you're coming from. Tonight...tonight was fun, but it was hard too. I…" She stops again, no doubt biting her tongue to keep from saying something else. But I don't want her to feel like she needs to hide something from me, so I stay silent. After the song on the radio ends, and there's that lull again, she continues, "It hurt seeing you smile and have fun with your friends. It sounds selfish, I know, but it just reminded me that _I _used to be the one that could make you smile like you were tonight. And I'm not that girl anymore, and it's my fault."

I'm listening to every word she's saying, not just to respect the huge amount of vulnerability she's showing me, but also to make sure she isn't about to break down and cry. Veering us off the road. So far, so good. "But you were smiling and having fun too, right?"

She nods, "I was. But I was only smiling when they were talking about you because that's all I could relate to." Shit, I didn't even notice that. "It's...hard...seeing other people make you happy."

Oh.

Elsa shakes her head, I see a droplet reflecting on her cheek which tells me I'm not doing a good job at keeping her from crying. "Sorry, that was too real. I'm just gonna shut up now."

"Elsa, don't- ugh." I put a hand on her shoulder, remembering that it's the only place I can touch when she's driving that won't make her get all squirmy. This isn't her fault, it's mine for not picking up on how sad she really was tonight. I put her in a situation where she'd feel uncomfortable, where she'd feel unworthy. I have to make this right somehow. "Don't ever apologize for being honest with me. Especially when it comes to shit like this, you need to tell me if I'm making you feel bad. You're my…"

My...

What the...

I have to stop, not to keep from saying anything stupid, but because I don't _know_ what to say. Elsa's quick to pick up on my hesitation though. We're at a red light, so she can safely look at the hand on her shoulder, and then at me. "I'm your what?"

I open my mouth, but it's like someone sucked all the air out of my lungs. This should be an easy question to answer. It should be. It fucking should be.

"What am I to you, Anna?"

It really, _really _fucking should be easy to answer this, but it's not. It's something I wasn't even thinking about all that much until right now. We're roommates, sure, and that would be the easy and obvious answer. But it's _too _easy, and it wouldn't be that accurate. I'm still adamant about the whole "not being friends with your ex" thing, so I don't know where that leaves us.

I don't know what Elsa is to me.

She must pick up on that. Or maybe the stoplight turning green grabs her immediate attention because she just shakes her head and focuses back on the road. "I'm sorry, that wasn't a fair question. I kinda put you on the spot, I didn't mean to do that."

I sigh, "Elsa…"

"No, it's okay. You probably don't even know how to answer that, so let's just...drop it for now. I'm sorry. Again."

I don't say anything back, because I don't know what else to say. Instead, I just shift my arm further into the sleeve of my jacket and use it as a makeshift pillow against my window. The streets are quiet and lonely, the city is asleep out here. Soon we'll be in Central Arendelle, soon we'll be at Arendelle Towers, and soon we'll be at our room. Soon this night will be over.

Happy fucking birthday, Anna.


	12. Day 57

**Day Fifty-Seven: It's Complicated**

I last two days before the whole "not talking to each other again" finally gets to me...again. It's driving me crazy staying cooped up here while I hope to grab Elsa's attention for at least five minutes. But even when she's around, all I get is a smile and a "Hey" before she retreats back into her room. And it's frustrating as shit.

If someone told me three months ago that I would have gotten frustrated at my ex-girlfriend not talking to me, I'd punch them. And yet, that's what's happening now. The not talking part, not the punching part. If I punched Elsa, we'd probably get evicted the same day.

Not that I'd ever want to punch Elsa, even if she had it coming. That'd be like punching a puppy or a small child. Okay, well she's not a small child, I'm not a fucking pedophile-

How the fuck...where was I again?

Oh right, distractions.

The gym doesn't do much to get my mind off things, staying in my room definitely doesn't help, and my friends are either out of town or too busy with their families or jobs and other unimportant stuff. I'm on my own, and I hate it. Even more so because the one person I _can _talk to right now won't talk to me.

I mean sure, she's probably upset because I couldn't tell her what she meant to me, but how was I supposed to answer that? It's been two days of non-stop thinking about it and I _still _don't have a concrete answer. And now what, she's gonna hold that over my head? Well fine, if she doesn't wanna talk then I don't wanna be here.

For now, at least for the next few hours while she's also in the apartment.

So even though it's 2 in the afternoon on a Monday, I change into respectable clothes (i.e. putting on pants), walk out of Arendelle Towers, and head to the nearest bar.

Anna needs a drink.

* * *

Remember how I said that everything you could ever want is within walking distance from Arendelle Towers? Well, that's doubly true for bars.

It doesn't take me long to find a nice, quiet, generic-looking place to hole up in. I don't see a name anywhere on its wooden exterior, only a bright neon sign pointing to the entrance that says "BEER". For all I know, this could all be a trap set by some maniacal butcher to slice up lonely 20-somethings and harvest their organs. But I like my chances and go in anyway.

The door opens and a shotgun doesn't take my head off, so we're off to a good start. Just like I expected, there's not a lot of people here. There's a couple of guys in the back, the bartender, and someone sweeping the floors. I take a seat at the bar and order my drink. It's only beer for me, been that way since I was 16. Other alcoholic stuff tastes off to me, or maybe I'm too much of a pussy to try anything out a second time. Either way, I'm not trying to get drunk here, I'm just trying to pass the time. Beer's good for that, it's always been good to me. I pride myself on only getting blackout drunk once and then never again.

It was after I broke up with Elsa. I called my friend Kristoff because his girlfriend had recently dumped him too, and we got shitfaced at this bar out by the docks. The last thing I remember before blacking out was getting up on a table and chugging like my sixth drink of the night. Kristoff helped piece the rest of the night back together. Apparently I made out with some biker chick, threw up in like three trash cans, and almost jumped off a bridge.

That last part made me swear off getting that drunk ever again.

So this drink in my hand will be the only one I get for today, which means I'm gonna make it last. This whole thing with Elsa is a fucking rollercoaster: one day we're good, the next day I do something that sets her off, and then we're good again, and then she's sad again, and it gets so frustrating. It makes me wonder why the hell I thought this would be a good idea. I scroll through my emails and find the one I sent to Elsa about this competition. The email that started it all.

* * *

_Hey, it's Anna. I'm not sure you even use this account anymore, I hope you do. I know it's been awhile and I don't do this whole talking with your ex thing, but I kinda need something._

_There's this really stupid contest that Mr. Arendelle does once in a while where he wants to see if two exes can stand living with each other for a year. And if they can do that, they win $100,000. It's a batshit insane idea I know but I called about it anyway. And for some reason they want to interview us about it._

_I know you're probably this big successful author now, and your family's fucking loaded, so you don't need the money but I do. So just...I know this is a lot to ask, but could you go to the interview? They sent me a link and all that so here it is: [LINK TO CONTEST PAGE]_

_If you don't want to, then that's fine. We can just chalk this up as another stupid Anna idea, but...yeah this is stupid. Why am I even asking you to do this?_

_Fuck it, look on the off chance that you decide to do this with me, I...I don't know, I promise I won't be a huge bitch to you and I'll try to make this work. If not, then I guess you can just move on with your life or whatever._

_I don't know how to end this. Um...bye, I guess._

* * *

I think I failed on the whole "not being a bitch" thing.

I did try though, and I'm still trying. I just don't know what's gonna hurt her and what won't. It would have been so easy to just move on with my life and go from dead-end job to dead-end job till a rich heiress falls in love with me and I get half her money. But noooooo, I took the hard way and now I'm paying for it.

I didn't think this would be easy, but I didn't think it would be _this _hard too. I thought...honestly I don't know what I was thinking anymore. Hey, we've made it through two months and that has to count for something. At least I know her better than I did in the beginning...kind of.

Ugh, this is stupid. Why am I even here? I should just try and apologize, or get her to talk to me. She gave me her new number, all I gotta do is text her and ask if we can talk about Saturday. That's all I gotta do. I still have my phone in my hand, I just need to message her.

Just press on her name, and message her.

Just press on her name, Anna.

Just press on it.

Just…

Fuck, why can't I do it?!

"Ugh," I grunt as I put down my phone and bury my head in my arms. "Fuuuuuuuck my life."

"Rough day?"

Wait, what?

That sounds like a person. And judging by the closeness of the voice, they're probably talking to me. And judging by how they sound, they're probably attractive as hell. Begrudgingly, I poke my head out from my arm nest and turn towards the voice.

Yup, they're hot.

The bar's got two large, depressing windows that barely let in any light, and it's all shining on this goddess. She's got the fairest skin I've ever seen, striking violet-colored eyes, and long, dirty blonde hair that cascades down her shoulders- ah fuck, I do have a type. She's also got on this low-cut tank top and tattoos running down both her arms, the boldest one I see is a rose wrapped around her right forearm. It takes me a minute to register that this punk-rock angel asked me a question, luckily I have experience in the whole "talking to girls" department.

"More like a rough month," I respond with a laugh that sounds stupid in my head.

She responds with a laugh of her own, deep and rich like dark chocolate. What the fuck does that even mean, Anna? "I've been there before. Wanna talk about it?"

I rein myself in and take a drink before I blurt out a yes, I don't wanna sound too eager to talk to her. She might think I'm attracted to her or something. "That depends on how much time you've got."

"I'm at a bar at 2 in the afternoon on a Monday. How much time do you think I have?" She waves the bartender over to get a bottle of her own, and when she gets it she points it towards me. "Now what's up? Girl problems?"

I blink, "How'd you guess?"

"Well you're a girl, and you look like you've got problems. Ergo: girl problems." She chuckles to herself and takes a sip. This isn't fair, she's got a quick wit and laughs at her own jokes. Those are like numbers 6 and 7 on my "Top Ten Things That Make The Perfect Woman" list.

"Well you're right either way. I am a girl."

"Good to know," she says with a smirk.

"And I do also have girl problems."

"Interesting," She leans closer to me, resting her head on her knuckles that I just notice spell out the word "FUCK", I wonder what the other one spells out. "Do tell. I mean if you're up for it, obviously. After all, you just met me, and no sane person would ever trust me with their deepest, darkest secrets."

If that's supposed to be off-putting, it doesn't feel like it. In fact it just makes her more intriguing. "Well then I must be crazy because I want to," I say as the spirit of awkwardness that possessed me laughs without my permission. "It's not really a deep, dark secret though it's just...roommate problems. That's all."

Ick, I don't like the sound of that word: roommate. It's not like I'm lying, it's more like I'm not saying the whole truth. In fairness, I did just meet this mystery girl, and I'm not the kind of girl to tell her whole life story to complete strangers. Although, the way she's looking at me with those eyes that I could get lost in...it makes me want to. It's like I'm under some spell, like she's Medusa but instead of turning me into stone, she turns me into a puddle.

"Ah, I've been there before," she replies, "Let me guess. You have feelings for her, but she doesn't feel the same way, and now things are super awkward?"

I almost spit out my drink. Thankfully, I swallow it and cough out my lungs instead.

"Shit, you okay? Was I right?" She puts a hand on my back, and I pretend her fingers don't send a chill down my spine that I only feel in the bedroom. Yeesh Anna, why don't you just bend her over this bar and get it over with?

Once I recover and wipe off the gross beer residue on my lips, I shake my head. "No it's- bleugh- it's nothing like that. It's complicated, _really _complicated. I mean we used to date for a couple of years before we broke up."

"And you're _still _roommates?!"

"No, she became my roommate like two months ago."

She blinks, "I-I don't...not quite sure I understand the math here."

"Ugh, I told you it's complicated." And I don't think telling her that we're doing this for a contest isn't gonna make much sense to her either. Besides, the less people know that I'm gonna be thousands of dollars richer in a year (hopefully), the better. "There's a lot of shit that we left unresolved before the breakup that's coming up now, and I think if we don't learn how to work through it, it's gonna break us apart even more."

"Is that such a bad thing? I mean you guys broke up already, so it's not like you have to make this work again."

Oh buddy, you have no idea. I stifle a laugh and take another sip from my pathetically half-empty bottle, "Like I said, it's complicated. I...I need to make this work. I don't really have any other options right now."

"I feel like finding a new roommate is a pretty good option."

"Uh, not for me. At least not right now." How do I even explain this without going into too much detail?

"Um...okay."

I dig my hands through my hair and groan, "I know, this whole thing is stupid. I wish I didn't have to do this, but I do. So...ugh, I don't know what I need right now."

By this point, I wouldn't be surprised if she decided I'm a lost cause and left me to stir in my self-pity and complicated problems. But instead, I hear a bottle sliding over and clinking mine. "Sounds like you need another drink."

I look up, and she's got this smile on her face that I've seen on a lot of people before. Caring, supportive, even though she barely knows me, I feel like I can trust her. And she can trust me. Gosh, the last person that looked at me like this was...fuck, it was Elsa. And that should complicate things, that should make me feel weird and make my stomach do backflips or something. It should make me feel guilty that I'm spending time with this random, beautiful girl instead of _trying _to patch things up again with Elsa.

But it doesn't.

Her bottle's more full than mine, so I finish off the one I ordered first and grab the one she's holding out to me. She's already gotten another one of her own and is gesturing it towards me. I tap my bottle to hers as if to say we're done talking about our problems for now.

For now, we just drink and forget. Drink and distract.

"Thanks for this," I tell her once I've taken my sip.

"For what?"

"For talking to me. Helping me get my mind off shit."

She shrugs, "I didn't really do anything, but I'm not one to pass up praise. So you're very welcome, uh...shit, I never asked for your name, did I?"

I laugh, it sounds way more natural this time, "It's Anna."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Anna." She smiles and stretches out her hand.

I shake her hand, it feels soft and comforting, another feeling that I haven't felt since...damn it, since Elsa. Can't think about that right now. That's a problem that'll have to be fixed later, for now all that matters is this. This weird connection that I have with this attractive woman, and the drinks we share at this shitty bar. "It's nice to meet you too, uh…"

"Aurora," she replies, "My name's Aurora."


	13. Day 60

**Day Sixty: Meet Aurora**

So, I'm pretty shit at texting.

For all the game I have in person (ha!), and the ability I have to make girls fall for me after one conversation, the tradeoff is that I can't text to save my life. I come off as too passive-aggressive and bitchy, I use the wrong emojis to show how I'm feeling, and flirting? Absolute trainwreck. I swear I can feel them drying up every time I try.

Which makes the fact that Aurora still texts me after three days pretty surprising.

It's too soon to tell if she likes me or not, I mean she seems kinda flirty but that may just be her personality. After all, I've only known her for like three days. Like take this exchange from last night for example:

* * *

**ANNA: **_It's not too bad, the bed's nice I guess._

**AURORA: **_Well yeah, it's yours haha. Of course it's nice. ;)_

**ANNA: **_True._

**AURORA: **_But we should probably get some sleep huh?_

**ANNA: **_...it's only 10._

**AURORA: **_Fine, *I* should get some sleep. Gotta work tomorrow._

**ANNA: **_Oh, then yeah you probs should. Don't let me keep you up._

**AURORA: **_Too late for that haha. Besides, it might take awhile for me to go to sleep anyways, bed feels kinda cold tonight. :(_

**ANNA: **_Oh. Well it shouldn't take long for you to warm it up. *finger gun emoji*_

**AURORA: **_Lol goodnight_

**ANNA: **_Night. Talk to you tomorrow._

**AURORA: **_Can't wait ;)_

* * *

It's confusing, I feel like there's something here but I'm not entirely sure. Besides, I don't even know if she's single. Hell, I don't even know if she's into girls. These are questions I should ask, but there's no way in hell I'm asking that through text. Besides, my track record when it comes to getting information hasn't been the best lately.

Me and Elsa still haven't talked and, me being me, I haven't breached the subject yet. But my defense, I _still _don't know what she is to me. I already said that saying we were just roommates didn't feel right. But if it's more than that, then I'm gonna have to do some serious reflecting. And I'm not up for that right now.

What I _am _up for is spending some time with Aurora, who hit me up like half an hour ago asking if I wanted to hang out. Obviously I said yes, and now I'm just laying on my bed waiting for her to pick me up. I don't know what we're gonna do, but I feel like it's gonna be good. Exciting, even. Which is something I haven't felt in a while, not since I moved in here anyway.

It's not like Elsa's some stick in the mud, but she's never been very adventurous and spontaneous. I guarantee that she stressed over asking me to go watch a movie a couple of weeks ago. I never asked her to be impulsive and all that, because I was impulsive enough for the both of us. But she rarely ever surprised me or did something just for the hell of it.

With Aurora, it's different. I've only known her for a few days, but I can already tell it's different with her.

It's a good different, I think. It's a different that I need right now.

My phone buzzes, and I know who it is before I even check the message.

**AURORA: **_I'm out in the lobby. Get your butt down here already, gosh._

I can't help the smile on my face when I read it, and I sit up. I look over my outfit in the bathroom mirror- which I totally didn't agonize over for like thirty minutes. When I don't see any embarrassing stains and tears aside from the intentional tears in my jeans, I open the door to grab my shoes.

And then my soul leaves my body when I see Elsa on the other side.

"Holy _shit_, you scared me," I say as my soul comes back to me.

Elsa winces, "Sorry, I...the door was unlocked."

"Remember the last time you came into my room just cause the door was unlocked?"

"You told me that I could!"

"Yeah, well I...that's because I- ugh, whatever! Just…" I sigh, "Hi. What is it?"

Elsa's got her hands in her pockets, she put them there after I had my mini heart-attack, and she hasn't taken them out. I get the sense that if they were out, she'd be tapping them against the doorframe because I can already tell she's gonna ask me for something. This doesn't seem like she just wanted to know how I was doing.

"H-how are you doing?"

Oh, guess I was wrong. Either way, I can't have this conversation right now because Aurora's waiting for me. I gotta make this quick, but I don't want it to seem like I don't want to talk to her...even though I kinda don't (Woah, triple-negative there. Good job, Anna). I put on a smile and try not to make it too obvious that I'm looking past her, "I'm good, yeah I'm doing good today. Sorry I'm just in a hurry, need to meet somebody in the lobby."

"Oh! Uh, I'm sorry I didn't know...who-who are you meeting?"

Seriously? _Now _she cares? Okay that's kinda mean, I shouldn't doubt that Elsa cares. I have every right to because we're not dating anymore, and there are some days she doesn't seem like she wants to talk to me, and...where was I going with this? Oh right, she's finally talking to me after almost a week. "A friend," I reply, "We're gonna go out and do something, I'm not sure yet."

"Oh. Okay, well don't let me keep you." She says that, but she also hasn't moved from her spot in front of the fucking door, the only exit from this bathroom that I'm trapped in. I see her feet shuffle a little bit, she probably knows that she's in my way, but she doesn't unblock the doorway. One of her hands has magically found its way out of her jean pockets and is now resting on her elbow. "I…"

"What is it?" The faster I get her to spill, the faster I can get out of here. "There's obviously something on your mind, Elsa."

She looks at me and then looks at the floor, and I can already sense she's going to say something guilty or self-deprecating. "I-I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for cornering you on your birthday. And for not talking to you until now. Could...could I make it up to you somehow? Maybe we could go shopping for a late birthday present? Not right now obviously since apparently you have plans, but maybe tomorrow?"

Well, it was sort of self-deprecating, but more surprising if anything. But then, Elsa's been full of surprises this past couple of months. "Are you sure you want to?"

She shrugs, "It's not about what I want. Well, actually what _I _want is to make it up to you by doing whatever _you _want. Does that make sense?"

"Yes and no? Elsa, there's really nothing that you have to make up for."

"But I feel like there is. So could I please make it up to you? I care about you Anna, and I want to…" She immediately stops talking, and I immediately know why.

The fact that she can barely look at me now confirms my suspicions.

What else can you really say after telling your ex-girlfriend/roommate/whatever that you care about them?

She shakes her head, "Actually, could we just forget that I said anything? Please?"

I don't know what possesses me to ask this. Maybe it's because I'm a fan of cruel irony and karmic justice, or maybe it's because my curiosity gets the best of me: "What am _I_ to you, Elsa?"

Elsa doesn't look surprised, it's like she saw it coming, but she does wince again. It's definitely an unfair question, and I regret it right after asking. If _I _can't explain what she means to me, then there's no way Elsa can. I shake my head, deciding to put her out of her misery, "You know what? That was unfair for _me _to ask, so you don't have to answer. Besides, I gotta go anyway."

There's no graceful way to do this, so I just pat her arm and ease my way past her. When I finally get to my door, that's when she finds her voice again. At least for the moment. "Anna, wait…"

But I can't do this right now. Literally can't. Aurora's waiting for me. "Elsa, it's fine. We can talk about this after I get back. Or maybe we don't. But right now I _have _to go. I'll see you later, okay?"

I don't wait for a response, I just leave her there. Standing in my room. Looking guiltier than I feel.

* * *

"Put this on and let's go."

That's all Aurora has to tell me before we're cruising along the Arendelle coastline on her motorcycle. The city's got a different feel to it under the amber-brown tint of her spare helmet, and I'm not gonna lie when I say that it feels nice wrapping my arms around her leather-clad waist. She hasn't told me where we're going, what we're doing, and how long the drive's gonna take; I'm literally and figuratively just along for the ride. And it's so thrilling, it almost makes me forget that I left Elsa alone to feel guilty about not answering a question I couldn't answer either.

Almost.

I'd ask Aurora where she's taking me, but I doubt she'd hear me from the roar of her bike and the wind rushing around us. Kinda wish I wore _my _leather jacket so that we'd at least be matching. When I got to the lobby and I saw her in her skinny jeans, high-tops, and tight leather jacket, I almost forgot how to be human for a second. My mouth and brain stopped working, and I swear my legs and arms were going to be next before she tossed me the helmet and I snapped back to reality.

We drive past the business district, past the pretentious beach houses, past the coast, and into the mountains where rich people live to get away from us poor folk (except for Mr. Arendelle, who lives on the top floor of Arendelle Towers). We drive till it seems like it's just us on the road, and right before I start thinking that she's decided to kidnap me and take me to an entirely different state, we stop right at the entrance to this massive mountainside home. It's quiet up here, and even more so when Aurora shuts off her engine.

I take off my helmet and walk up right next to her. "This your place?" I ask jokingly, although it wouldn't surprise me if it actually was.

She scoffs, "I couldn't afford a house like this in a million years. Saw that they were doing renovations when I was up here a couple weeks ago. Got to talking with one of the workers and he said they can't move forward with any other plans until the owners cough up more money. Which means…"

Aurora steps toward the large metal gate that keeps this house from the evils of the outside world, and feels around the curves and edges of the design. Next thing I know, she's climbing the gate with an ease that tells me she's done this before, maybe even recently. My suspicions are confirmed when she disappears for a second behind the brick wall, and the gate slides open.

"Which means we've got the place to ourselves," she continues with a proud smile. "Come on, Red."

I knew this would be an interesting day, and now my mind is spinning with so many different questions. As I catch up to her, I start with the most important one: "Did you just call me Red?"

"Yeah, cause of your hair," she draws a circle around my head with her finger for emphasis. "Like redhead, you know? But shorter and cooler."

"Um, I'm not really a redhead. My hair's more of a fiery orange," I argue. "Been like that since I was a baby."

"Would you rather I call you Orange, then?" She jokes.

I'd rather she call me hers.

...alright, dial it back Anna.

"You could just call me Anna. I mean that _is _my name."

"Hmm...nah, I like Red better." She gives me a wink before getting ahead of me and almost skipping up the steps that lead to the front door. Once again, I'm left taken by surprise and struggling to find more words to say. In what's becoming a running theme, unfortunately, she's the first girl that's left me this tongue-tied since Elsa.

Aurora's peering through the circular glass window at the top of the door when I get up the steps. "I doubt anyone's in here, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

Speaking of which… "Are you sure it's okay for us to be here? A cop could drive around that bend and see your bike chilling by the gate."

"Trust me, the cops never come up here. And if they do, I'll just sweet-talk our way out of trouble." She tugs on the handle, and the door opens without any hesitation. It was probably already unlocked- which is still surprising- but I pretend it opened for her because she's so damn charming. "Now…let's have some fun."

I follow her as she walks in with a confidence that we're not gonna get arrested or mugged by a hobo. The interior looks like an unfinished sketch. The furnished rooms like the library and living room are draped in plastic wrapping to keep debris from getting on it from the unfurnished rooms. Which, by the way, are pretty empty and depressing. The walls are a bunch of plaster and wood frame, and the floors are concrete or scattered wood planking. I expect Aurora to uncover the plastic on one of the couches, but instead she walks through the doorway of what I think is supposed to be a kitchen. She wipes off the dust on the granite island countertop and hops on to it, and then she stretches her arms out wide.

"Make yourself at home!" She exclaims, and so I do.

I hop up next to her, getting a different and better view of this...well it would be my dream house if I was honest. Multiple rooms, a staircase that leads to the second floor that I can slide down, and I'm sitting in the kitchen with someone I don't have to pretend to like. Someone that, from the afternoon sun peeking through the window, has a glow that makes her smile almost as bright as her hair. I can't help the sigh of relief that comes out of my lips.

"What's up?" Aurora asks.

I shake my head, "It's nothing, just...never done something like this before."

"You mean breaking into a stranger's house?" She giggles, "Yeah, it's not exactly a typical life experience. It's good to know that you're easily pleased, though, it'll make this next part more exciting for you."

"What do you mean?"

She doesn't say anything, she just leans in closer. And I feel the rest of the air leave my lungs.

I didn't expect this to be happening so soon, I didn't expect this to be happening _at all. _But it is, and I'm finally getting my answer as to how Aurora feels about me. It's exhilarating, a rush I haven't felt in so long that comes from knowing that the attraction is mutual. One-off dates and one night stands can never fit the shoes of this feeling, and I couldn't have picked a better spot for this to be happening. Hell, I didn't even _have _to pick that spot.

Aurora's face is inches away, and I see her hand reaching up to hold my cheek. I smile like a goddamn idiot and close my eyes, waiting for that kiss that seals the deal.

...and then I feel her hand brush the top of my head.

I open my eyes, coming back down to the harsh reality that is my shit-filled, unsatisfying life when I don't feel her do anything else. Aurora's pulled back and is patting the hand that was on my head across her jeans. "Sorry, you had some dust in your hair." She shrugs and slides off the countertop, and I'm left sitting dumbfounded as she walks to another room. "Now get your ass over here, Red! Let's have some fun!"

* * *

I agree to everything she wants to do both out of curiosity, and to distance myself from the mortifying embarrassment I was feeling.

We've been in this house for who knows how long now. All I know is that the sun has set a little bit more and is barely visible from the windows we opened to air out the overwhelming paint smell. Which we caused after knocking down a scaffold full of paint cans.

...we were trying to grab the paint to decorate one of the walls.

Which we still ended up doing after scraping as much of it as possible back into the cans. Turns out she's a bit of an artist, because of course. Using a bunch of half-empty cans of paint, and a few brushes, she made this gorgeous mural that looked like a neon sunset. It was beautiful enough to almost keep me from asking about the consequences of putting something this permanent on a house that wasn't ours.

"Don't think the owners will be too happy with this being up in their dining room," I tell her as I continue to look at it in awe.

Aurora pats her hands on her jeans and places them on her hips, also admiring her handiwork, "Nonsense, I think it adds some much needed color to a place so boring and lifeless. And if they don't like it, then they can just paint over it. No harm done."

I look behind us at the wreckage that we caused and giggle, "Tell that to the scaffolding."

"Bah, they can put it back together. And we'll be long gone before they do." I should be more worried about getting in trouble, but this doesn't even crack my top five dumbest/most illegal things I've ever done. I know we're gonna be fine, I feel confident of that- or at least, I feel confident that I'll be okay with Aurora.

Having her around makes me feel like I can take on the world again, it's like I'm that carefree, rebellious teenager but with the body and money of an adult. I have the best of both worlds now. She looks at me with a playful grin that starts up those damn butterflies in my stomach, and points at my nose, "You still got a little bit of paint there."

I swipe a couple fingers on my nose, but no paint comes off. "Where?" I ask her.

Aurora shakes her head and steps toward me. "I got it," she says as she licks the tip of her finger and swipes it across the bridge of my nose. Why that turns me on, I'm not entirely sure. She pulls her paint-stained finger away and holds it up with pride, "There we go!"

"Thanks," I try to say like a functioning human being.

"My pleasure," she says with another wink. Maybe that's just who she is, maybe it means something more. I'm not sure, and I'm too chickenshit to ask right now, fearing that it might ruin the day if I do. Or make it better…

Regardless, I don't get the chance to ask right then and there because she's grabbing my hand and leading me to another room. "Come on," she says excitedly, "I wanna do one more thing before we go."

I don't complain when her hand is holding mine, I just follow her lead as she takes me to another unrefurbished part of the house, possibly a laundry room by the looks of the weird pipes and stuff sticking out of the floor. It's darker than the other rooms too since the windows are taped up and covered in newspaper. "Wait here a second," she says as she lets go of my hand and disappears down the hallway, "This is one of my favorite things to do when I'm here."

I notice the plaster on these walls is more worn-down and cracked than anywhere else in the house and there's chunks missing out of it. "How many times have you been up here?" I ask as I pull back a corner of the newspaper to look outside. The view of the mountain slope we drove up is breathtaking, it's trees and sky as far as my eye can see. And best of all, there's no one even remotely close to this house.

Just us, only us.

"Like five or six times?" She says, her voice sounding closer than before. "I go up here if I'm bored, or if I wanna relieve some stress."

"How do you do that? More painting?"

"Nope, something a little more fun than that." She sounds like she's back in this room with me, and I turn around to see her with a big smile on her face. And a sledgehammer in her hands.

"Holy shit, where did you…"

She shrugs, a comical and slightly sexy look as the hammer moves up with her. It's like she belongs on every page of a construction worker calendar. "It was in the garage, along with some other fun tools that I've played with. But this right here is my favorite, it's got a real satisfying swing to it. And the thump it makes when it hits the wall...mmph!" What I'd give to hear her make that sound again. "Here, let me show you."

"Wait, are you sure you-" I don't even get to finish my sentence before I see her swing the hammer onto a heavily damaged part of the wall next to me. That must explain the missing chunks. True to her word, it makes a satisfying, echoing thump as metal connects with plaster and another hole is made in the wall.

"Whoo!" She exclaims as she pulls her hair out of her eyes and rolls her shoulders. "Holy fuck, that's therapeutic." I laugh from a mixture of disbelief, nervousness, and being more than slightly turned on. More than I already was. I can see the outlines of her muscles as she raises her arms to tie her hair back into a ponytail. "You wanna try?"

I don't even hesitate, "Hell yeah."

"Haha, well then go for it." She moves the handle towards me and I pick it up with both hands. It's lighter than I think it's going to be, but there's still a definite weight to it that tells me I'm going to have some serious fun. I line myself up a little off-center from her mark and square my shoulders. After one deep breath, I raise the sledgehammer over my head and bring it down on to the wall. It makes another satisfying thud that I can feel in my hands this time, the recoil almost makes me drop the damn thing on my foot but I'm able to hold on.

I laugh again, "Fuck, that felt amazing."

"Right?!" Aurora smiles and gestures to the wall, "Try it again."

She doesn't need to tell me twice, I'm already lifting the hammer up to put another hole in the wall. And another. And another. And another. Between the both of us, we must have taken out almost a quarter of the plaster, being careful of course to not hit any of the supporting beams. We only stop when we're both too sweaty and exhausted to lift the hammer up anymore. Aurora puts it back in the garage, and next thing I know we're out of the house and back on the road. Aside from the amusing amounts of destruction we caused, it's like we were never even up here.

The sun is barely visible on the horizon, nestling safely on the city below us. The drive back is calm save for the roar of her bike, but it sucks knowing that the day's almost over. Spending time with Aurora and not knowing what to expect out of today made things that much more thrilling. Today was exciting, dangerous, spontaneous, and exactly what I needed just to get away from my Elsa problems for a day.

For once, I'm spending time with a girl that's giving me zero complications and has managed to take my breath away more than once.

Maybe there's nothing here and the feelings are one-sided, or maybe she feels the same way. There definitely felt like there were some...moments today, heated ones. Either way, I don't have to know anything right now. All I have to do is hold her just a little bit tighter as she drives me back to Arendelle Towers, and I'm pulled back into my reality once again.

* * *

**A/N: Hello hello, I hope you appreciated the Christmas one-shot that I uploaded yesterday. It's been a while since I've written one, and I wanted to make sure I posted it before Christmas Eve, which meant it took more of my attention this week. But that didn't mean I was going to leave you without an update. How are you liking this turn of events so far? Because it's about to get really, _really _fun?**

**But it's time for a little bit of sad news. This will be the last chapter that I post in 2019. I wanna actually enjoy the holidays this year, and I don't want a deadline looming over my head while I try and do that. I'll be back again on January 1st, don't worry. Hope you guys have a great rest of the year too. **


	14. Day 63

**Day Sixty-Three: Hypothetically...**

"Hey, I've got a weird, hypothetical question for you."

Olaf looks at me like I just gave him a surprise birthday gift. "Ooh, how exciting!" he says earnestly, "Tell me, I'm all ears."

I roll my eyes, "It's not that big of a deal." Actually it kind of is, and it's something that's been on my mind since I tore that house up with Aurora. I pick at the pillow in my lap, hoping he doesn't notice. "It's just..._hypothetically_, if one of us were to get into a relationship this year, how would that affect the contest?"

I think he may have told me something about this like in the beginning, but it's been two months and I can't remember everything he's said. Unlike with some people…

He raises an eyebrow, "Don't you remember me telling you about that at the end of week two?" When I shake my head, he sighs- almost like he's disappointed that I don't write down our dialogue like this is a fucking screenplay.

"_Well_, entering into a relationship with anyone other than your ex isn't against the rules per se, but it could make things a little more difficult. Your ex might get jealous or distraught that you've found someone else in your life and might move out to save themselves from a repeated heartbreak. Or they might get in the way of your relationship, causing a rift between the two of you that could lead to the both of you signing a release form. It's a tricky line to balance."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I mutter.

"Soooooo who's the girl?"

"There isn't one," I snap back. "And even if there _was_ one- which there isn't- I wouldn't be telling you. That was only a hypothetical question that came to my mind right now." And yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that…

"Mmhmm." He isn't even looking at me anymore, he's writing something down on his stupid clipboard. I wonder if he's actually writing anything about these check-ins, for all I know he might just be writing his grocery list. Or, you know, a screenplay. "Does Elsa know about her?"

"No," I reply quickly.

...fuck.

He doesn't even need to say anything, the shit-eating grin he's sporting says enough. I try and pretend my pillow is his neck and dig my hands into the cover. I groan, "What the hell are you writing about now? I didn't even say anything!"

"You said a word, aaaaaaand I am writing down that word in my report."

"Looks like you're writing more than that."

Olaf puts down his clipboard and sets it on the coffee table, the paper on it definitely looks official and has a lot of notes written on it. And I don't see a single food item listed down. Maybe he put it down as a means of gaining my trust, which will never happen but I appreciate the gesture. "Don't worry Anna, remember what I told you in our first session? Everything you say stays between me and you. Even secret girlfriends that your roommate has no idea about."

I stand up, "Are we done here?"

He smiles innocently, "Mmhmm! Could you get Elsa for me?"

"With pleasure," I mutter after rolling my eyes. Again, finding something to say to Elsa is kind of a difficult thing to do because we haven't been talking much (and water is wet). It makes me wonder if our relationship is ever gonna be normal for longer than like two weeks. It makes me wonder what our relationship even _is_. I put that thought of my mind for the moment, it's best that I don't dwell on something I can't answer.

Can't...or won't?

Ugh, I'm just gonna knock on the fucking door.

She opens it after a couple of seconds. I'm expecting her usual droopy, brooding look she sports every Sunday, but that doesn't seem to be the case this week.

Her eyes are bright and awake, she's wearing an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants which means she's probably not going anywhere anytime soon, and she looks happy to see me. I mean she's smiling, I'm not sure how genuine it is, but it's still better than a straight face. She's even making eye contact and everything, which I'll admit is kinda making me a little nervous.

It's different than what I'm used to, but I'm not sure it's a good different.

"Hey," she says in a way that's not too eager to be suspicious (too late), but not too depressing either. "Thanks for getting me."

I blink, "Uh, no problem." What is this? No sad remarks? No moving past me to get her check-in out of the way? Have we finally turned a corner in our weird, fucked up relationship? I'm probably looking too much into this, but then again I've been doing that a lot recently. And not just with her.

Don't get me wrong, it is nice to see her smile and have some happiness in her voice. If she is actually happy, that is. Despite everything, seeing her happy still succeeds in making _me _happy. I can't help it, she just has that effect on me.

Elsa's made her way on to the couch, and that's my cue to get back in my room. I sneak one last glance at her, and she gives me a quick, little wave before turning her attention back to Olaf.

* * *

I try to go back to sleep, hoping that a couple more hours of rest will stop my mind from running around in circles, but it's useless. The damn thing is running a marathon.

I gotta do something, staying cooped up in this room is just gonna make me do more thinking, and right now I don't want to think. Going to the gym could buy me a couple of hours, but after that, I gotta come back. All my friends are either out of town or doing their own Sunday morning routine, so I can't call them up. I could hope that Elsa forgot about the weird tension between us, but I know she hasn't. Which leaves one last saving grace: Aurora.

I don't even think about it that long, I pull out my phone and message her: _Hey, you up?_

I let my phone fall onto my chest, waiting anxiously for a reply. I usually get a text from her around this time anyway since she actually has a job and needs to wake up this early. And I know that she's always gonna reply, so why am I so anxious? I think it's because this is the first time I've ever reached out to her. Usually, she's the one that texts first, and I'm along for the ride. This time it feels like I'm making my intentions known.

When we were at that house, it felt like there were moments where...I don't know, maybe something could have happened. Or started to happen, anyway. I mean it's obvious my question for Olaf wasn't for a hypothetical scenario, I clearly want something with Aurora. I just don't know what, and I don't even know if the feelings are mutual.

A relationship? Well yeah. Long-term? I...I don't know. I don't know if that's something I can let myself get wrapped up in again. And what about Elsa? Where does she fit into this? Would she get upset if me and Aurora started dating? Would it hurt her? Would it even matter to her?

Would it even matter to me?

Fucking...there I go again, asking myself questions I don't want the answers to. I close my eyes again, hoping that I've given myself a long enough break from trying to get some sleep to _actually _go to sleep. But not even a minute goes by when I'm startled by a sound.

Not my phone buzzing, but a knock on my door. A cutesy, familiar knock.

"Anna?" Elsa says softly through the door. "You still awake?"

Unfortunately. "Yeah."

"...are you still dressed?"

Why would- oh, that's right. "Yeah, I still have clothes on."

"Uh...could I come in?"

That is a very good question, and right now I hate questions of any kind. But I already told Elsa I'm awake and dressed, I just have to hope this conversation isn't as bad as I'm dreading it'll be. I swear if she asks me again to tell her what we are, I'm gonna lock my room and never come out.

Ah shit, what if _she _has an answer for what we are?

"Yeah sure," I say before I can dwell on that for much longer. I sit up, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders to signify that while I might be awake, I don't plan on leaving my room.

She opens the door slowly, still dressed up like she's ready for a slumber party. "I just got done with my check-in a minute ago."

"Oh. How'd it go?"

"Good. How about you?"

I shrug, "Just fine, I didn't have any complaints and he asked the same questions he's been asking for weeks."

She giggles, "You think he's going to shake it up one of these days?"

Oh if only she knew. "Probably, I mean he doesn't seem like the type to keep doing the same old thing for too long. He can barely sit still for like five seconds."

"I know, right? And isn't the way he taps his clipboard all the time kind of annoying?" Elsa's leaning on my door frame and the smile on her face reminds me of the Elsa that I used to know. For now, it feels like things are the way they used to be. No fighting, no screaming, no hurtful comments, no crying, it's good. And yet I'm still nervous, because it's _too _good.

I do what I've been pretty good at so far and hide that nervousness. "Kind of? I can't even count how many times I've wanted to stab him with that pen."

"Remember when we tried baking a pie at my apartment and you almost cut off your finger?"

"How could I forget? It was the first and last time I tried baking anything."

"Oh come on, it wasn't _that _bad."

"So you're telling me you wouldn't have minded having a part of my finger in your pie?" Elsa snickers and hides her mouth behind her hand. It doesn't take long for my dumb ass to figure out what's so funny. "Shut up! That came out wrong!"

"It really wasn't that bad, honestly."

I roll my eyes and tug the blanket over my shoulders more to try and hide the blush on my cheeks. "Okay, well you were dating me so you were pretty biased."

"Well we're not dating right now."

Ah, there's the awkward tension. The thickness of it hits us both seemingly at the same time. Elsa looks down at the floor and bites her cheek, I bite my lip and snuggle into my fuzzy blanket shell.

Elsa coughs, "Uh, that came out wrong. Can we just move on?"

"Gladly," I respond.

"Good. Um, well...yeah, I was wondering if we could talk. About us?"

"I feel like that's all we talk about nowadays." That was meant to be a joke, Elsa doesn't laugh, and now I feel like an ass. "Sorry, I was trying to make a joke."

"No, I-I got that. But you're kind of right, I think." She takes a step towards me, looking like she's wary that I'll bite her head off. When I don't, she continues, "Ever since your birthday, though, when I asked you what we were- and then yesterday when _you _asked me about it- I've been lost in my thoughts trying to figure it out."

"Oh…"

"Would it- I mean, would you be okay if we talked about it?"

No, but I've learned that I'll never feel okay talking about us. It's obvious that this will always be a touchy subject, no matter how much we think things through or gain the courage to push through the conversation. But it always feels worse to leave things unsaid.

Besides, don't I want this? Don't I want to stop feeling so awkward around Elsa? If we finally just have _the _talk about what we are to each other and how the hell we're really going to get along this year, it would save us from so much drama and headache. It's smart to talk about this now, Elsa even seems like she has her answer.

But I _don't._

And that's what's holding me back, I don't want to make up some bullshit on the spot, but committing to a single truth about what I think of Elsa is like trying to describe color to a blind person. It's frustrating, the answer feels like it's on the tip of my tongue, and I swear this isn't me being my stubborn asshole self, I just can't get the words out. But Elsa seems like she wants an answer now, or she at least wants to say hers. And if she says hers, she'll probably want to know mine, and I- ugh! I fucking hate this!

Elsa's waiting for an answer, five fucking feet away from me, hoping that I can be an adult that has adult conversations. I open my mouth to say...something, _anything, _and that's when my phone starts buzzing. The distraction I was hoping for a million years ago.

I pull it up and look to see Aurora's name flashed on my screen, she's calling me. I look to Elsa, and she just gives me a small smile and nod as if to say go ahead. I answer the call with a clearly nervous, "What's up?"

"_Hey Red, I got your text. You missing me already?"_

I look at Elsa, who's doing nothing other than waiting patiently with a small smile on her face and her hands wrung together. I should keep this conversation short, and not sound too excited to hear from Aurora. Even though I really, _really _am. "Is it that obvious?"

"_Haha, weeeeellll I'm in the area. You wanna hang out again? I told my job to suck it anyway and I really don't wanna see my roommate right now, so I've got the day off."_

I shouldn't. I really, _really _shouldn't. I'm looking at my options right now- stay here and have an awkward but needed conversation with my ex-girlfriend, or ditch her and spend time with this new girl I have a massive crush on- and the answer seems pretty obvious. But I really shouldn't. I can't imagine the amount of courage Elsa had to build up to even come into my room right now, but at the same time...I'm not ready yet. So even though I really shouldn't, I do it anyway.

"Yeah sure," I tell Aurora.

"_Just what I wanted to hear. I'll be there in five minutes."_

"See you soon."

She hangs up, but not before I hear the familiar sound of her motorcycle starting. The silence after the dial tone cuts straight through the relief I got from talking to Aurora. Now I'm left alone to break the bad news to Elsa, who's clearly trying to mask the disappointment on her face. I think she already knows what I'm going to say before I say it.

"I'm so sorry, Elsa," I tell her as my stomach starts feeling uneasy from the shame, "But I gotta go somewhere."

* * *

**A/N: Told y'all I'd be back on January 1st. **


	15. Day 64

**Day Sixty-Four: What Did I Do Last Night?**

**A/N: I made a Spotify playlist for this fic. It's got songs that remind me of the story, or help put you in the mind of Elsa and Anna, or just stuff I'm listening to while writing this. I'd post the link, but FF doesn't let you do that so...idk I'll post it on AO3 so you can check it out and follow it if you want to. Alright, back to the angst weeeeee...**

* * *

Uuuuuuugh.

It's the morning, or at least I'm sure it is from the sunlight peeking through my curtains burning my eyes. My entire body aches, my mouth feels like sandpaper, and there's a jackhammer going off in my head.

Hangovers are a bitch.

I told myself that I'd never get blackout drunk again, and guess what I did last night? No seriously try and guess, because I barely remember.

All I _do_ remember is trying to push down the guilt of ditching Elsa, and then getting on the back of Aurora's motorcycle, and then going back to the mansion to break some more shit, and then we went to a bar...and then somewhere between the sixth or seventh shot is where there's a huge lapse in my memory.

I gingerly turn over as an unladylike grunt escapes my lips, and do some inventory. I have pants on, which is a good start, but I'm still wearing the shirt I wore yesterday- it smells like stale beer and shame. My phone is on the nightstand charging, I unplug it and check to see if there are any notifications. Nothing, which means I didn't send anybody weird shit last night.

I put it back on the nightstand and- holy shit, my hair smells awful!

There's more of that stale beer stench mixed with dried vomit that jumpstarts my stomach. I should take my time trying to get up to avoid getting too nauseous, but I'm already about to throw up so there's no reason to be careful.

I race to the bathroom and...yeah. After that, I take an ice-cold shower, brush my teeth, and do my post-hangover mulling over my life choices. It all makes me feel a tiny bit better, but it's a start. The headache is gonna stick with me for the rest of the day, though, which is a fair enough punishment.

What time is it? I'm straining to remember the number I saw on my phone, I think it's around 7:30ish. Elsa's probably awake then, which gives me another thing to worry about.

I'm hoping that I got back while she was asleep so she doesn't know I ditched her to go get blackout drunk. But judging by the different pants I was wearing in bed, I don't think so. Wait, that means she changed me, which means she saw me half-naked again. Great.

I slip into the baggiest sweatpants and hoodie that I own, resigning myself to a day of hangover recovery. Speaking of which, coffee sounds good right about now. I head to the kitchen to make some-

Ah fuck, Elsa's in the kitchen.

"Oh, hey there," I say with a still raspy voice.

"Hey," she says back, "I was already out here while you were in the shower."

"Oh, um okay that's cool. That's great." It is?

Elsa raises an eyebrow, "It is?"

I shake my head, "Is there any coffee?"

She nods. "I can't drink it anymore because of my anxiety medication, so it's been a while since I've made any. I hope it's good enough."

"I'm sure it's just fine, Elsa," I smile at her and grab a mug from the cupboard. True to her word, the coffee looks freshly brewed. Something doesn't add up though, "Wait, if you can't drink it, then why did you make it?"

"I figured you might need some." The way she says this tells me what I was afraid of, she had to take care of blackout drunk me. Damn it, it's good coffee too.

I don't know how I should look when I turn around and meet her gaze, so I go with a guilty-looking lip bite. She always went easier on me when I did the lip bite. "I'm...sorry you had to see that. I must have looked like such a jackass."

She doesn't say anything, she isn't even looking at me. All she does is stare straight-faced at whatever she's holding in her hands. I resist the urge to retreat back into my room, and instead I sit at the dining table with her.

When I do, she places what was in her hands in front of me: a small bottle of aspirin. "I figured you might need this too," she says.

I pick up a hint of nervousness in her voice, like she wants to confront me about yesterday, but doesn't know how to approach it. I could start the conversation for the both of us, but my head is still killing me. And I'm not sure what I can say to make things better. I say a quick thanks before opening the bottle and downing four of the little pills in one gulp.

For a minute, the only sounds between us are coming from the ceiling fan and me sipping my coffee. When we catch each other's gaze, we immediately look the other way hoping that the other didn't notice. It catches me off guard when Elsa finally breaks the silence.

"Where were you last night?" she asks in a way that tells me she already knows.

"I was...my friend needed me," I say in some horrible attempt to save face.

"A friend? Which one?"

"Uh, you haven't met her. Or- I mean, I've never mentioned her." She's silent, I can tell that I'm not convincing her of anything. I'm not easing any of her worries. I'm not catching her off guard.

My suspicions are confirmed when she finally locks eyes with me and says, "You don't have to lie to me, Anna." Her tone is cold, unnerving, but there's also a sense of betrayal when she says that. Like after everything we've been through, I'm still keeping secrets from her. "If you're dating somebody then it's okay-", there's a slight hesitation before she says that last word, "- it's not against the rules. We're not gonna lose the money if you do."

"I'm not…", I run my hand through my hair, resting my elbow on the table. This is pathetic, I can't even look at her. "We're just friends."

"So you _do _want to date somebody then? Someone specific?"

I sigh and close my eyes, both from my splitting headache and the horrible turn this morning's already taken. I'm not up for this right now, and I tell Elsa that.

"Anna, I just want to know what you've been up to," she says sadly. "We've gone back to not talking as much, and I know a lot of that's on me, but I'm trying to make up for that now. It's almost like we're strangers again, is that what you want?"

Ugh, labels.

Again.

Always with the fucking labels. "Elsa, I can't answer that question."

"Still?"

I rub my temples, "The fuck do you mean 'still'?" I'm trying to sound hostile, and yet I can't look her in the eye, which severely impacts my intimidation factor. Not that I'm trying to intimidate Elsa into dropping this conversation, it's just that I'm not in the mood for this. I just want to go back to my bed with my coffee and aspirin breakfast.

But Elsa doesn't budge, she's assertive but not raising her voice. "Anna, I asked you on your birthday what I am to you. I gave you your space to think about it, and I even said we could drop it but...I guess I really _do _want to know. It's been over a week now, and I...you have to have something."

"Do you?" I retort, "I asked you the same thing, remember?" And I thought she let me off the hook about this. So why bring it up?

"I know, and I do. At least I think I do. I'll tell you what I think- I'll tell you what you are to me- but I have to know that you have an answer too. Just so we're on the same page." If not for the slight hesitations, I would almost think Elsa came into this conversation confident and prepared. Maybe she's just prepared, which is more than I can say for myself.

The headache, only slightly subdued by the aspirin, fucks with my concentration. "I can't talk about this right now," I say as I pocket the bottle of pills, wondering if I should take some more, and grab my coffee. When I get up to leave, I add an, "Or ever…"

"Ever?"

Fuck my life. Just...come on, your hand's on the doorknob, Anna. All you gotta do is turn it, you don't have to keep talking about this. You already said you didn't want to, just turn the knob. Just turn it.

"Anna, please turn around. I just want to talk to you."

Just turn it. Don't engage. Don't say anything stupid. There's nothing you can say right now that you can't explain away with the hangover. So don't say anything. Just go into your room. Don't. Say. Anything.

"Why won't you talk to me, Anna?"

Damn it.

I turn around so fast that it's like my brain rattles and ricochets in my head. The pain was so intense, I have to dig my free hand into my hair and groan. Which causes half my coffee to spill on the goddamn floor, setting the scene for my horrible, regretful, untimely, uncalled for rant.

"Because I don't fucking know how to talk to you anymore, okay?! It's like one minute we're doing just fine, and then I say something stupid that sets you off, and then you don't talk to me until you fucking want to. Do you know how exhausting that is?! To not know what to fucking say to someone because you're afraid of hurting them again?"

"And you wanna know why I can't give you an answer? It's because- surprise- I don't fucking _know _what we are. Sometimes we're just strangers, sometimes we're just roommates who only talk to each other like once, sometimes we're...I don't even know how to describe it. But I can't _just _be roommates with you because there's too much history between us, and I can't be friends with my ex-girlfriend. I just fucking can't. So I don't know where that leaves us, and the only thing I _know _that I want from you is...is to please g-get off my ass about this!"

No, damn it. My voice is shaking, my throat is getting sore, but not from the yelling. I...I think I'm gonna cry, and I'm not sure why. I drown it out, my voice and my thoughts and my words are all that I'm choosing to hear right now.

"Gah, you're so fucking frustrating sometimes. I-I get it, okay? I said some dumb shit and I...I hurt you really bad, and you said some dumb shit too. So why can't we get it- over it already? Why is it _always _like this between us, now?! Why do we have to keep having these awkward, serious conversations? We were supposed to find a way to coexist, but instead we just tolerate each other until _I _do something fucked up and you don't leave your room or talk to me for _days!_ And it's _my _fault that we're not talking anymore?"

"Don't you think I've wanted to talk to you? Don't you think I've wanted to _try _and spend some goddamn time with you without things going to shit?! Don't you think that it hurts _me _too that we're like this, now? I _want _things to be okay between us, Elsa, but this bullshit keeps happening and I'm sick of it! I'm sick of always walking on eggshells when it comes to you, I'm sick of having someone around who doesn't even want to talk to me half the time, I'm sick of not even getting to enjoy having you in my life again! I'm sick of this-"

A hiccup, a momentary loss of breath. That's what finally breaks me. That's what gets the tears going. With the splitting headache, rising nausea in my stomach, and now this? I can't keep going on, because if I do…

And Elsa. She's looking down at the ground about to cry too, and damn it I feel guilty again. I…

"Fuck this," I say breathlessly.

I _finally _open my door and slam it shut, but not before hearing Elsa sniffle and say "Anna, wait…"

I've said too much today, done too much. There's no reason for me to leave my room for the rest of the day even if I wanted to, and I don't.

I really fucking don't.

Not for anything or anyone. My head's still killing me, my stomach's tying itself into a hundred knots, and my damn eyes won't stop crying. I crumple into bed and pull my blanket over my head, shutting the rest of the world out.


	16. Day 67

**Day Sixty-Seven: The Tattoo**

No, we haven't talked since that day. Fuck you.

And it's not because she's been avoiding me, though, it's because I've been avoiding her. I haven't left my room, no matter how many times she's knocked on my door I don't answer. It's always the same damn knock too, and that same damn soft voice with the same damn apologies. But it's been three days, and staying cooped up here just to avoid her is once again driving me crazy.

It's- I just- gah! I can be upset, right? I feel like everything I said was reasonable, even if I hadn't said them nicely.

So why do I still feel guilty? Why does a part of me want to burst out of my room, kick down her door, and beg for _her _forgiveness? Why do I want to _take back _everything I said? It can't just be the threat of seeing her cry again, it has to be something else.

But I. Don't. Fucking. Know. What it is!

I can't think about this right now, I refuse to. I need to get out of here.

Thankfully, after being gone for the past couple of days due to some personal business, Aurora is going to be here soon to save me. She's been hard to reach, but she's replying now and will be down at the lobby in five minutes. That's all that matters.

That and figuring out how to get out of my room without running into Elsa. Curse this stupid room's design flaw of not being able to hear out of your bedroom door. Elsa's room has been eerily silent all day- not that I've been listening or anything- so maybe she's not even in there right now. Or maybe she's out in the living room.

This is...stupid. Just leave, Anna. Just put on your shoes, storm out your door, and head to the lobby. It doesn't matter where Elsa is or isn't, she doesn't matter right now. Elsa...doesn't...matter right now. Why does that sound so wrong?

I can't do this.

I can't think about this right now, or anymore. I put on my shoes, slip on a jacket, and open my door. She's not in the living room, she's not out in the hallway, she's not in the elevator, and she's not in the lobby. But someone else is.

Aurora's leaning on the back of one of the plush, velvet couches and her grin grows wider when she sees me. My eyes grow wider when I see _her_. In the past couple of days since I'd seen her, she's managed to shave half her head, with the remaining half of her silky, blonde hair swooped along the other side, and she's gotten a septum piercing. "Missing me already, Red?" she says in a smug tone.

I try to come up with some other smug retort, but all that comes out of my mouth is, "Y-uh, your hair!"

She chuckles and twirls a strand of it around her finger, "You like it? Kinda felt like it was time for a change."

"It's…" Oh my goodness, I can't find the right words to say, but I have to say something so it doesn't seem like I hate it. And I don't hate it. After the initial shock wore off, I'm realizing that it's really, _really _sexy. But I can't say that in case she takes it the wrong way. Even though I feel like I've known her long enough to know that she'd probably just say something vaguely flirtatious right back at me. Just say _something_, Anna, holy shit. "It's different- a good different! I like it."

"I was hoping you'd like it," she smirks and I think I see a bit of a blush in her cheeks, that might just be the lighting though. "Now come on, you ready for another great escape?"

It's then that I notice how on edge I really feel. The hairs on the back of my neck are at attention like someone's right behind me. I turn and there's no one, but I can't shake the feeling that Elsa could turn up at any moment. She could round the corner, come down the elevator, even walk right through the front door.

And right now she's the last person I want to see. I let out a groan and start walking. "Yes please…"

* * *

"You sure you don't wanna talk about it?"

"Absolutely. The less I think about my roommate-" argh, that still doesn't sound right, "-the better. It's frustrating and complicated, and I don't wanna dump all that shit on you."

"Hey, my roommate pisses me off too. He's always-" Huh, so she lives with a guy. That's...nice. "-giving me shit about rent, and doing the dishes, and staying out too late."

"Sounds more like a dad than a roommate."

She laughs, "Eww, don't make me think of him as my _dad_."

"Who is he anyway? Good friend? Old boyfriend?" My curiosity is going to kill me, I swear. If she has anything other than some neutral, platonic response, it might wreck me.

"Old boyfriend, yeah. Lotta history, too much to get into."

"Oh, so we have more in common than I thought," I say quickly, drowning out the screaming in my mind. It doesn't look like Aurora's happy that I brought it up either, she's got an uneasy look that I know way too much about.

I want to apologize. But before I know it, Aurora shrugs and goes back to our previous subject, "All I'm saying is if she's giving you such a hard time, then you should let me know. I can come over there and set her straight."

As amusing as that sounds, the thought of her and Elsa meeting each other also sounds terrifying. I don't understand why. Maybe it's because they're such polar opposites, that I'd doubt they'd get along. Plus, the last thing I need is for my ex-girlfriend to meet my hopefully, possibly, soon-to-be girlfriend. I really should stop being such a chickenshit and ask her out already.

"No that's okay," I tell her, "I don't want you getting too roped up in my drama."

"KInda too late for that," she replies as she sifts through her tenth stack of vinyl in this record store. Old punk-rock music plays through the speakers of this repurposed cafe, and it smells like cardboard and eucalyptus. In some odd way, the store reminds me of when Elsa and I would go thrift-shopping.

I could tell Aurora that we should get out of here, but she said she hadn't been to this store in a while. And she's got such a cute, joyful smile on her face that I don't wanna disappoint her.

So I suck it up, pawing through the same stack of records, while unhelpful memories of Elsa and I trying on dorky outfits rummage through my head. The covers are worn-out from age and heavy use, looking through the artists reminds me of music that my parents used to listen to. Classic rock bands, 80s R&B stars, and stuff like that would always be on the speakers downstairs.

"What do you think about this one?"

I look up and almost jump out of my skin when I see not Aurora, but Elsa standing in front of me holding a record in both hands. This can't be happening, there's no way she could be here, this has to be a dream or something. But "Elsa" tilts her head and looks at me concerned. "You okay there?" she says in Aurora's voice.

I close my eyes, shake my head violently, and reopen them to see that everything's back to normal. Elsa's not here, it's just Aurora looking at me. "Er, um...yeah. Y-yeah, I just spaced out there for a second. I'm good- I'm great, even, it's nice to be out of the room and doing something like this. Did you say something before?"

Aurora doesn't look convinced at all, her glossy lips are pursed- goddamn, do I want to kiss them- and she's narrowed her eyes at me. But she doesn't repeat whatever she just asked, instead putting the record back and reverting back to an amused smile. "Come on, I've got an idea," she says before grabbing my hand and leading me out of the store.

* * *

Blinding fluorescent lights, neverending buzzing noises, and the faint smell of rubbing alcohol all in one room should make me uneasy. And yet I feel perfectly fine, because Aurora swears on the good reputation of this tattoo parlor, and her hand is still in mine. That, above everything else, is what's sending chills down my spine. Good, amazing, wonderful chills.

I shift in the leather recliner for the hundredth time, accidentally squeezing Aurora's hand. "Sorry," I mutter.

Aurora giggles and pats my hand, "Don't worry, I was also pretty nervous when I got my first tattoo." She nudges her shoulder towards me, "It's this cute little butterfly right here, I was whining like a little bitch the whole time."

I decide not to tell her that the nerves are mostly from her holding my hand, on the off-chance that she lets it go. It feels like she's been holding it for forever.

I frown, "Is it gonna hurt?"

"It depends oh where you get it. The initial shock of the needle hurts a little bit, and in the softer parts of your skin it'll hurt a bit more."

"It's gonna be on my wrist. So…?"

Aurora hesitates, and then puts on a forced smile and pats my hand, "Don't worry, I'll be here the whole time."

Great, so it's gonna hurt like a bitch. It's probably too late to back out now, and I doubt Aurora would let me. And I don't want to either. Getting a tattoo has always been on the back of my mind- I've had a design picked out since I was sixteen- but I never had that impulse to finally do it. Aurora was the catalyst in a way, I guess, getting me to do what I never thought I'd get to do.

Even though I know the smile is forced for my benefit, I can't help but feel like there's something else there. In her eyes, looking down at me, I see what I think is admiration. Maybe something more. Or maybe I'm just seeing what I want to see.

"I'm glad you are," I tell her. "I've always wanted to do this, but never alone."

"Well lucky for you, I'm good at not leaving people alone," she chuckles and pats my hand again. Something about the feeling is familiar.

As the tattoo artist begins to sterilize my wrist, I look back up at the fluorescent lights and settle into the recliner even more. I wish I could finally spend time with Aurora without there being any questions or hang-ups. I turn my head to thank her again for getting me to do this. But she's not there.

It's Elsa again.

Fuck.

Her long, platinum braid dangles across a butterfly-less shoulder as she looks down at me comfortingly. That look turning into concern as she raises an eyebrow and speaks with Aurora's voice, "You okay, Red?"

I blink a couple of times, and Aurora gradually comes back. Why does this keep happening? This day was supposed to distance me from Elsa, and yet it feels like she's closer than ever. What else do I need to do to get her off my mind? "Yeah I'm okay," I respond while squeezing her hand, "The lights are just kinda bright, that's all."

"Well then just look at me, I promise I won't blind you."

I chuckle, "I know you won't." I hear the ominous buzz of the tattoo pen turning on as it gets closer and closer to my skin.

It hurts like a bitch the whole time.

* * *

Four curvy M's angled across my wrist, four silhouetted birds taking flight. It's the design I chose when I was cloud-watching in my backyard, the day after my sixteenth birthday. I can barely move my right wrist, and even though I know it's going to hurt, I'm tempted to touch the transparent bandage around my hand.

"It'll look better when it's healed. _And_ if you stop poking at it." Aurora says as if she's read my mind, or seen me stare at my wrist since we got back to Arendelle Towers.

"I can't help it," I reply, "It just looks so blotchy and gross, I'm worried."

"That's just the blood piling up on the bandage, in a couple of days you can peel the bandage off and it'll look amazing. Trust me."

"I do trust you." Enough so, that I've decided to let her walk me past the front door, onto the elevator, and down my hallway. In a second, she'll know my exact room number; I just hope that she won't see my roommate.

Today was good, better than I was expecting but not as mind-clearing as I wanted it to be. It was nice to make another impulse decision, even if it was a permanent one. At least I had someone worthwhile to make that decision with.

It's been so long since I've stressed over dating anybody, in fact the last time it happened was- nope, fuck, can't think about her right now. I'm gonna tell Aurora I have feelings for her when we get to my door. I can't keep pussying out of this.

She makes time for me, and whatever we do ends up being fun and exciting. She's my kind of girl, I just hope that I'm hers.

"By the way, I'm gonna be out of town again tomorrow," Aurora tells me when we make it to the door. "Just for tomorrow. I'll hit you up when I get back though, okay?"

I'm so busy keeping a lookout for anyone that could ruin this moment that I almost forget to reply. "Wha-oh right, uh...yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll miss you."

She raises an eyebrow and leans on my door, "You will?"

I...well this wasn't how I _planned _to tell her, but I guess my mouth has decided to rebel against me. No sense in backtracking now, I muster whatever brainpower I have left to give me one last jolt of confidence. "Well of course I will, I think it's pretty obvious I like spending time with you."

Aurora toys with her hair again, and despite the teasing grin she's got on, I can definitely tell she's blushing now. Underneath the shitty hallway lights. "Well, I think I like spending time with you too."

I let out an exaggerated gasp, "You _think_?"

She rolls her eyes, "You know I do."

"I-" A noise from behind the door. Fuck, I freeze mid-sentence and listen for any other sounds. It sounded like feet shuffling, and then another door closing. Elsa has to be in there.

And even though she isn't out here with us, something inside me knows that the moment's passed, and that whatever suave way of ending this night I had planned is out the window. She's waiting for me, and now that I'm out of my own room, there's no way that I can avoid her anymore. I sigh, "Sorry about this Aurora, but I need to-"

Another noise, this one coming from me. A muffled squeak as I feel Aurora's lips pressed onto mine.

She's kissing me.

Aurora's kissing me.

And I'm kissing her back. We're kissing underneath the shitty dome lights, in front of Room 914, with my clear hand on her hips, and my bandaged hand running through what's left of her hair. It feels like a breath of fresh air, her lip gloss tastes like cherry.

When we part, I'm scared that I'll blink and find myself back on my bed, waking up from the most tortuous dream of my life. But Aurora's still standing in front of me, hands still on my hips, smiling at a job well done, and biting her lip. "See you in a couple days, okay?" She says like she hadn't just turned my whole world upside down and right side up.

"O...okay," I say pathetically.

She giggles and puts her hands back on her side, "Good." It's like she knows I don't have the brainpower left to say anything else, because she does the goodbyes for both of us by turning around and walking back down the hallway. "Sweet dreams, Anna," she says before turning the corner.

After a minute, I can finally breathe again. I slide down our front door, not yet finding the energy or motivation to open it, and put a finger on my lips.

Fuck...


	17. Day 70

**Day Seventy: Back to Reality**

**A/N: This story needs more angst. **

* * *

This...can't be good.

It's check-in day, and I'm all set to tell Olaf that nothing's wrong so that I can go back to texting Aurora, but we're not alone. Elsa's here too, and she's holding my pillow. And on the table is a vaguely familiar piece of paper. Olaf turns around to look at me when I leave my room and see this waiting for me.

"Anna! It's great that you're here, come sit down so that I can talk to the both of you." He's smiling when he says this as if that's supposed to reassure me, but it only fucks with me more. I turn to Elsa to see if I can get some answers, but judging by the way she's clutching the throw pillow and staring at the ground- not acknowledging my existence- I don't think I'll be getting anything out of her.

This all seems like the setup for an intervention. I sit down as far as I can on the other side of the couch, picking up my feet and bringing my knees close to my chest. The more of Elsa's personal space that I avoid, the better. At least that's what I think, she doesn't even seem to notice I've sat down.

"What's...this about?" I ask Olaf, "Aren't these check-ins supposed to be one-on-one?"

"Correct! But under very rare circumstances is it required for me to have you both in the room. This is one of them."

"And what exactly is _this_?"

Olaf leans over and pushes the piece of paper on the table towards me, flipping it around so that I can read the title: **OFFICIAL RELEASE FORM. **Elsa's signature is already at the bottom.

_Shit._

He also slides a pen near my way, "All I'm going to need is your signature, and we can finalize the move-out. Now I know I'm not supposed to be biased, but I really am going to miss you guys. You two were one of my most favorite couples to work with."

This is a nightmare, right? I'm still asleep in my bed after a late-night phone call with Aurora, right? There's no way that this awful, sudden turn of events could actually be happening right now. No...no, I'm wearing pants which means that this is real. Elsa wants to leave, but I don't. I can't. I _won't._

I scoff and move the paper back towards him, "I'm not signing this!"

Olaf blinks, "Oh. I was under the assumption that you were both on the same page about this."

"Well obviously we're not!"

What follows is a chain of reactions by the dumbfounded employee. He opens his mouth, closes it, makes a bubble with his cheeks, lets out an uncomfortable breath, and scratches the top of his head. "Well! Um...it seems like you two have some talking to do. I'm going to go ahead and take the form back and leave you to go about your business."

I cross my arms, giving him an unnecessary glare as he collects his belongings and stands up, making his way to the front door. "I'll go ahead and chalk up this week as a success, and I'll see you next Sunday. Good plan? Great plan. Byeeeee!"

He closes the door, and I'm pretty sure I hear a muffled "Yikes." I wait a few more seconds for the uncomfortable silence to simmer some more, and then I turn my whole body towards Elsa. She's looking at me now, fully expecting another anger-fueled conversation. And that's exactly what she's gonna get.

"Really, Elsa?" I hiss. "Really?!"

"It was the only way I could think of to get you to talk to me," she reasoned. Her face is impressively composed, but I can see in her eyes that she feels like she's made a mistake. There's guilt all over them.

"Do you want to leave? Is that why you signed the form?"

"No! ….I-I don't know, I mean…" she sighs, "I just hate this whole not talking to each other thing."

"Yeah it doesn't feel very good, does it?!"

"I know it's my fault, okay?! You don't have to-" Elsa stops herself, reining in that burst of emotion. She bites her lip, unable to keep her eyes on me and instead bringing them to the coffee table. "What do I have to do to get you to talk to me again? What do I have to do for things to be normal between us?"

I scoff and cross my arms, "You and I both knew going into this situation that things would never be normal between us."

"That doesn't mean we can't try!"

"I _have _tried! I've tried so many times…"

"Well then let _me _try this time. Please? I-I can't lo…" Elsa meets my gaze again, pleading with that look she knows will get to me. "I don't want you to be mad at me anymore. I know I still have some things to work through, and that shouldn't be your burden to deal with."

"See that's the thing, Elsa, I've _wanted_ to help you. Ever since you told me what happened, I've wanted to be there for you somehow. But I didn't know what to do, and every time I tried to help, I just felt like I made things worse for you."

"You didn't! If anything went wrong, it was because of _me_."

"Well it's good to fucking know that now!"

"I know, and I'm sorry that I haven't been taking the blame sooner. I know I should have been, but I was scared because the way you were acting-"

"The way _I've _been acting?! Have you looked in a mirror recently."

"A...Anna that really hurt."

"Well _I'm sorry! _There! There's your goddamn apology, that's what you wanted from me right?"

"No! I just want to talk to you and spend time with you because I can't...I can't…"

Ugh, again with the arguing and the pointless back-and-forth. How many times are we gonna have to go through this?! I don't even know what to say anymore, aside from cursing her out and storming back into my room. And I'm not doing that because Elsa's too goddamn fragile, and also because it wouldn't feel right.

I need something, _anything_, to get me out of this mess. And that's when I feel my phone buzz, and I go to check it. It's a message from Aurora, my savior, which has me letting out an internal sigh of relief.

**AURORA: **_In the lobby. Get your cute butt over here ;)_

I close my eyes tight and groan, "Look, I gotta go okay? So just...yeah."

"What? No Anna, we need to talk about this."

I stand up, turning my back to Elsa, noting how painfully familiar this scene feels. All that's missing is a box of leftover Italian food that'll never get eaten, and me taking off her old NMU hoodie. "No! We don't! Not now, not later, not _ever_."

"What? Anna, wait…"

I'm done talking about this. Aurora's waiting for me. I turn my doorknob and-

Whoa.

What the hell?

I'm nudged forward before I can open my door. Nudged by something soft, warm, and shaking. I look down and see hands wrapping around my waist from behind. Elsa's hands…

"Please don't leave…" Elsa whispers, and it feels like there's a word missing there that she can't say. Or won't. "I miss you, and I'm sorry for not being better. I'll try to be better for you, and make up for everything. But I really miss you, and I can't... Please don't leave, Anna. _Please…"_

…

I…

This…

...

Fuck.

I gently remove her hands from my waist, noting the way she shivers slightly, and open my door. "I'm sorry, but I have to go," I tell her, "I'll be back later."

* * *

True to her word, Aurora's waiting for me down in the lobby. I've never been more relieved to see her. She stands up when she spots me, and her lips curl into a smug grin. "What took you so long?"

I don't answer. When I get close enough, I drop my bag on the floor and pull her in for a deep, long kiss. One that leaves everyone around us uncomfortable, one that'll drown out my thoughts for the time being. Aurora's surprised at first according to the cute, little noise she makes at the start, but reciprocates just as passionately the longer it goes on.

I've never taken charge like this in a while. Right now it's needed, and it feels damn good. I pull us apart when my lungs feel like they're about to burst.

Aurora takes a second to catch her breath, looking at me with wide eyes as she wipes her lips with her thumb. "That was..._wow. _Guess you missed me pretty bad, huh?"

I pick up my bag from the floor and put my hand back on her waist. "I need a place to stay. Just for a few days," I tell her, "Can I stay with you?"

She blinks, no doubt taken aback by my sudden mood shift. After all, it was only a couple of hours ago we were doing some heavy flirting through text. "Uh...y-yeah sure. Of course you can."

That's the answer I was hoping for, the answer I needed. And damn it, it's happening. I'm going to fucking cry, even after I specifically told my body not to. I rest my head on the crook of Aurora's neck, mumbling out a "Thank you".

If she says anything, I don't hear it. Her hand comes up to stroke my hair and I get lost in her lavender scent, the intricate pattern of tattoos on her arm, the soft cotton of her blouse. It's what I want right now, it's what I need.


	18. Day 73

**Day Seventy-Three: There Goes Gravity**

**A/N: I got...a _lot _of comments on that last chapter. Like wow. Look, I'm not gonna pull the "don't like, don't read" card here, but I will say that I was _joking _when I say that the story needs more angst. I'm not that one-dimensional, everything has its purpose right now. As for the comments about Anna being too much of a bitch? She's not gonna go through the same pace of character development as Elsa. Again, just be patient y'all. It's only day seventy-three. We've got a little less than three hundred days left.**

* * *

"So you just have freckles _everywhere_, huh?"

I roll my eyes and toss the shirt I was going to put on at Aurora. "Maybe you should stop checking me out, and put on a shirt too."

The all-too-eager blonde takes my shirt off her face and rolls over on the bed, hooking her arm around my stomach. "Or maaaaaybe you should come back to bed so we can spend the rest of the day right here."

"You said you wanted to get breakfast," I say amused.

"Well I changed my mind," she purred while planting soft kisses along my bare back, sending tingles down my spine. It doubles the chills I'm already feeling from the morning breeze hitting my half-naked torso. "I've got my breakfast right here."

A light moan traitorously escapes my lips, letting my gorgeous captor know that she got me. And then she grows bolder and bites down lightly on my exposed skin. "Stooooop," I say with a breathy chuckle. "You know I'd love to spend the rest of the day in bed again, but I _am _actually hungry. And besides," I sigh and succumb to her embrace, falling back onto the bed. "You know I have to go."

It's been three days. Three days apart. Three days of binge-eating, drinks, cartoons, sex, and mansion breaking. It's been easy, exhilarating, freeing, but not at all distracting. Elsa's been on my mind no matter what I do; I can feel the remnants of her arms around my stomach, my spine still shivers thinking about her sobbing onto my back, and her pleas for me not to go still ring in my ear.

I turn over, Aurora's got a frown on her face that I know is more than just about me having to leave. "Do you _have _to? Are you sure she even wants to see you right now?"

"It doesn't matter," I reply. "I haven't heard from her at all, I need to go back and check on her."

"She's a grown woman, Anna. She should be able to take care of herself." I haven't told her much about Elsa, not even her name, but she's right. Elsa _should _be able to take care of herself, and I believe that she can, but I still need to go back.

"I promised her I'd come back," I reply, "But that doesn't mean I'll stay there for long, you know? I'll be back in your arms in no time."

"Hmm...okay. You better." Gentle fingers run through my bedhead, smoothing out a few of the hundreds of loose strands. "I'm gonna miss you every second that you're gone."

I smile contently, stroking her short, blonde hair, "I'm gonna miss you too." Breakfast can wait a minute, I lean forward and kiss Aurora, my whatever we are, like I'm going off to war. It's not long enough to lead anything else but heated enough that it's definitely on my mind again. She's shifted over so that she's on top and straddling me, her oversized t-shirt covers me like a blanket. Her lips still have a hint of last night's whiskey.

Before we can get too distracted, Aurora's the one that breaks the kiss. She's looking down at me and biting her lip like she wants to continue, but she gets off me instead. Kinda wish a couple of those words were rearranged…

"Let me just brush my teeth and we can go out," she says while picking up a pair of jeans from the floor- they might be mine, I'm not sure anymore. "Do you know what you want?"

I sit up and cross my legs, grabbing my shirt from Aurora's side of the bed. "Pancakes sound good."

"Hmm…" She puts a finger to her pursed lips, and then nods, "Okay, I think I know a place."

I flash her a grateful smile, "You're the best."

She giggles and disappears into her bathroom, "I know!"

A part of me is floating, blissful, and relieved at how easy things are with Aurora. Another part of me is nervous, unsettled, and guilty. Guilty because I've left Elsa alone? Yeah, but it also feels like I'm guilty because of something else. Why is it that I never have all the answers that I want?

I stand up and stuff my laundry into my duffel bag, no sense in being neat about it since I'm tossing them all in the washing machine when I get back anyway. Plus, I didn't bring a lot of clothes to begin with- half the time I was here I just wore my pajamas. My clothes scattered everywhere blend in well with the rest of Aurora's room.

It's messy, but in a way that feels like everything is exactly where she wants them to be. The walls are more barebones than I thought they were going to be, with only a clock and an old Guns n Roses poster hanging on them. Blankets cover half of her queen-sized bed. On her dresser are pictures with her and her friends, and a rose-patterned incense holder, and next to it is a full-body mirror with ironic Post-it notes stickied around the frame. They say things like _"CHASE YOUR DREAMS", _and _"CATCH TACOS, NOT FEELINGS."_

And then, of course, always on in the background is her never-ending playlist coming from a spare phone connected to a Bluetooth speaker. A nasally, pop-punk ballad is playing right now as I place the last of my clothes into my duffel bag. There's an inside-out shirt on the floor that I'm pretty sure is mine. I pick it up and flip it over, it's definitely not mine but it smells like Aurora so I might just steal it and hope she doesn't notice. That's when I notice that there's something on the floor where the shirt used to be.

It looks like an old photo, curiosity gets the best of me and I turn it over. It's a picture of a little girl holding a man's hand, with a vaguely familiar house behind them. The man's face has been completely marked off with a black marker, and the words _FUCK YOU _are written over it. The little girl has shoulder-length blonde hair, a big, close-eyed smile, and is flashing a peace sign with her free hand.

It's Aurora.

I scan the photo carefully for more signs to reinforce my conclusion, but I get another shock when I look at the house again. It's a little smaller, and only one floor, but I'd recognize the door to our destruction mansion anywhere. All this time, we were taking a sledgehammer to her childhood home.

That's how she knew no one would be there, and how she knew the front door would be unlocked. And who's this man in the picture? Her dad? Why were we over there? What happened between them? I want to ask Aurora these things, but I don't think it's my place to ask just yet. It wasn't like this picture was tucked away or anything, but it still feels like an invasion of privacy. Something I'm surprisingly good at.

I hear a door unlock, at first I think it's her coming out of the bathroom, but it's much more muffled. And then I hear a voice, a man's voice, an angry man's voice.

"Aurora?! I know you're here! We have to talk!"

And then the bathroom door unlocks, and Aurora looks frightened and panicked. "_Shit,_" she says before pacing over to me, "You have to hide. Now!"

"Wha- why? Aurora, what's going on?" I stammer out. Her hands are gripping my shoulders, and I realize that I haven't put on my shirt yet. She's not giving me any time to do so, instead pushing me towards the corner of her room where her closet is.

"He shouldn't be _back _yet! Anna, I'll explain everything later, you just need to-" Her door opens before she can finish, and things go from bad to worse.

A man enters, wearing an untucked long-sleeved shirt and an undone tie draped around his neck. He's got a gross amount of unkempt stubble and messy brown hair, it's like he hasn't slept in days. Or he's hungover. Or both. "You and I need to- who the hell is this?!"

Aurora moves from me to him, like she's trying to protect me. Or herself. "Phillip, now is _not _the time. Get the fuck out of here!"

"Are you kidding me?! No, we're finishing our conversation! How _dare _you try to break up with me through text?"

"Fuck you! I should have ended things a long time ago!"

"And that makes it okay to sleep with other bitches behind my back?"

Woah there, alright I'm not gonna just stand here and get called a bitch without saying anything. I step towards Phillip, only kept from getting right up in his face by Aurora keeping me at bay. "Excuse me, just who the hell do you think you are?! If you're gonna call me a bitch, then say it to my face!"

Which he does. Phillip steps closer- again, only stopped by Aurora putting a hand on his chest- and I can smell alcohol on his breath.

It's a stupid thing to ask, it's pretty obvious who he is. But I'm hoping that maybe this is all some twisted, fucked-up misunderstanding. He growls out his venomous response, "I'm her boyfriend, you homewrecking bitch."

...damn it.

I want to ask more, I _have_ to ask more, but I can't speak let alone breathe right now. Aurora shifts all of her focus on me. I want her to say that he's lying, I want her to kick Phillip out. But underneath the frustration and panic on her face, I can see something that I'm all too familiar with: guilt. "Anna, I'll explain everything later. Right now, I just- I need to- you have to go."

She's kicking _me _out.

"Aurora, what…" I can't say anything else. She's pushing my duffle bag into my hands, yelling at Phillip, leading me to her door. She's not telling me to stay, she's not holding me or kissing me, she's not coming to my defense. She's kicking me out, she's shutting her door, she's telling me she's sorry, and now I'm out on her front porch.

I still don't have a shirt on.

I'm alone.

* * *

The hotel hallway has never been as long as it is now. After putting on a shirt, I called for an Uber back to Arendelle Towers. There was nowhere else I felt comfortable going, no one else I wanted to be around. And I _know _Elsa's here, and I _know _she's gotta be pissed at me and never wants to see me again, but I _didn't know _what else to do.

It's...shit, I don't even know what time it is. 11 AM? That sounds about right, which means Elsa has to be awake by now. What if she's in the kitchen? What if she's right by my door? What if...what if...what if…

What if…

What if I hadn't left Elsa alone? What if I had just talked to her? What if I signed the release form? What if I never met Aurora? What if I could just tell Elsa what she is to me? What if I even had an answer for that?

One step. And then another step. That's all I can do right now, and eventually it'll take me to our door. _...our _door? I don't think I've ever called it that before. I'm going to make it to our door, walk into our room, see our kitchen, see our living room. I'll see the mess that _I _made.

Room 914.

I'm here.

I swipe my room key, twitching when it beeps and the green light on the door handle flashes, and I step inside. It's dark and empty in here. Every step that I take is amplified by the silence, and it makes me wonder if she could hear me come in even past the soundproof walls. I mean, she has to be here, right?

There's only one way to find out: I walk up to her door and place my fist in front of it. One knock, two quick knocks in succession, and then two final knocks spaced out from each other. And then I speak for the first time since I left Aurora's place.

"Elsa? Please, I...please be here." She has to be, she just has to be. Because if she's not, then I don't know what else to do.

I rest my forehead on her door, "Elsa, please let me in."

She has to be here.

She needs to be here.

Please...please…

And then I hear it, feet shuffling and getting closer. The doorknob rattles, and this time I'm happy to hear it. She's here, Elsa's here, but...she doesn't look okay.

Her hair is a mess and no longer in a braid, there are dark bags under her eyes, her shirt is wrinkled and her sweatpants are sagging and backward. Almost as if she put them on in a hurry. She doesn't look mad or upset, she doesn't look happy to see me, she's not looking at me at all. Her tired eyes are set on the duffle bag at my side. "You're back…" she says softly.

"Heh, yeah. I-I told you that…" I stop when my eyes shift from her to the inside of her dim bedroom, and I see them: a letter and a pocket knife, resting at the foot of her bed.

And that's when I break.

I drop my duffle bag onto the floor and collapse onto Elsa, wrapping my arms around her waist. My tears immediately stain the collar of her shirt. I don't expect any sort of reciprocation, in fact I'm half-expecting her to push me away. So after a minute, when I feel her wrap her arms around my shoulders, my soft weeping turns into loud sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, Elsa," I cry, "I'm so _fucking _sorry…"

And it's silent, it's shameful, it's dark and frightening. I'm crying so hard that I can feel my throat start burning. I hate it.

It's all that I can say, all that I hopefully need to say. Again, I don't expect any response, and I _still _think she'll push me away. It'd be depressingly poetic, and well-deserved karma, but she doesn't. She still doesn't.

In fact, she surprises me yet again when she holds me closer…

And she starts crying too.


	19. Day 75

**Day Seventy-Five: No More Running**

**A/N: Y'all want Anna to stop being a bitch? **

* * *

It's raining, a rare sight around this time of year.

The drops are hitting the window hard enough to make me grateful that I'm inside, and not out in the city. Wandering aimlessly, not knowing where the hell to go.

Instead, I'm here sitting on my couch with my knees pressed to my chest, listening to the rainfall. The lights are off which gives everything this gray hue, and...it's cold. The room is so much colder than I remember. I could easily walk to my bedroom and grab my blanket, but I stay here.

Right here.

I figure it's where I need to be.

It's where I have to be.

Aurora...just...what the fuck was I _thinking_? How stupid was I that I thought she was the one to finally drag me out of my miserable life? And to even _think _that my life is so miserable right now shows just how selfish I really am.

I live in a luxury suite at one of the finest hotels in the world, and I didn't have to pay a fucking dime! All my expenses are paid, and I can do literally whatever I want with my time. I don't _have _to find a job to make ends meet anymore, I don't _have _to deal with shitty landlords, I don't _have _to pay to do laundry.

And I wasn't grateful for it.

Why?

Because I have to live with Elsa again? My ex-girlfriend? A girl who, through her own admission, broke us up through factors that were out of her control? A girl whose mental health is so fragile that just one shitty word from me could ruin her entire week? A girl who I promised to be there for and ditched her time after time?

There are no words to describe the level of assholishness that I have achieved in less than three months' time.

The freezer door closes, and Elsa's walking back to me with two spoons and pints of mint ice cream. She's got a sympathetic smile on her face as she sits down across from me, and it's an all-too-familiar scene.

It's been a shitty few days for the both of us, and I'm not sure whose had it w- oh, who am I kidding, Elsa's definitely had it worse. No contest. She's had to deal with me, of course she's had it worse.

And yet she's the one that got the ice cream, and the one that's had a smile on her face on the days that it shouldn't seem possible.

She's strong, stronger than I've ever given her credit her for. But I know that she's in a lot of pain too, the image of that knife and letter on her bed is burned into my mind. It makes me sick to my stomach wondering what would have happened if I'd gotten here just a few minutes later.

What would she have done? What would I have seen? And to think, I wanted to get some fucking pancakes first before coming back.

So I should be there for her, and I'm fucking not. I want to, but I fucking can't.

Because I don't know if she'll let me.

"Thanks," I say as she hands me my own pint and spoon. "I...thanks."

"Mint's still your favorite, right?" She asks while showing her pint of the same flavor.

"Of course."

"Good," she replies proudly. "I got it right."

Of course she did. Of course she cares enough to remember. She always remembers. Unlike me…

We eat in silence while staring out the window. It's not as good as the parlor's, but then nothing tastes edible right now anyway. This isn't hunger, this is just a distraction. Something to get both our heads on straight.

"This should be a thing that we do," Elsa says after a little bit of time. "We should always have ice cream in the freezer, just in case you and I ever need some."

"That sounds like a good idea, yeah."

Elsa swallows another spoonful and nods, "I'll pick up some more tomorrow."

More silence after that. It's not that we're struggling to find something to talk about, we both know what needs to be said. Okay, well I know what I need to say- I can't just assume I know what Elsa wants to say. God knows I haven't been around enough to do that…

No more letting Elsa do everything. No more avoiding her. No more looking out for only myself. We're supposed to be doing this together.

Goddamn it Anna, we were supposed to be doing this together! I don't give a shit what you think, you're gonna be here for her no matter what.

Elsa sets her spoon down into her half-empty pint, "How-"

"How are you doing?"

She's taken aback by my interruption, but composes herself with a sigh, "Anna, you don't-"

"No. We're not talking about me anymore, it's been all about me for too long. Besides, I...I don't really wanna talk about everything yet. I wanna be here for you right now. So, how are you doing?"

"Anna…" She wants to argue this, I know she does. Talking about herself is still hard for her, even now. But I'm stubborn, and she has to sense the pleading in my eyes. With a sigh, she says instead, "I-I've been better."

"I'm sorry I haven't been here for you," I reply. "I was too busy looking out for myself, even though I promised that I would help you."

Elsa tugs at the end of her braid and lets out a sad laugh, "It's not like I've been easy to talk to lately."

I, of course, don't see the humor in that. In fact, that just reminds me of how little I _actually _tried. While I was off fucking a lying cheater, she was here waiting for me. Hoping, _hoping_, that I'd talk to her again.

I'm trying not to cry because I know that once I start again I won't be able to stop. That, and I don't deserve to cry, I don't deserve to feel sad about what I did. "That doesn't excuse me from not trying harder. You shouldn't have had to…" I can't even say it.

Elsa doesn't say it either, she nods. "That was stupid, it was just a moment of weakness. That's all."

"Were you gonna do it?"

Her eyes widen, and she looks down guiltily at her ice cream. The silence is all the answer that I need. "I was getting worried that you wouldn't come back. Even though you said you would."

"I was always gonna come back Elsa, but I never should have left in the first place."

If any of my words are reassuring, or even phasing her, it doesn't show. The frown on her face doesn't seem completely sad, but it's as if it's the only expression she can muster right now. A smile doesn't seem right, for either of us. It's my fault that this is happening, so I'm the only one that has to make this right.

"Elsa…" I say after another minute of silence, "I want you to know that I'm not gonna run anymore. I'm gonna keep my promise and be here for you whenever you need, and whatever you need from me."

She sets her empty pint on the coffee table and lets out another sigh so soft that it almost seems like a normal breath, "Anna, please. You don't have to do that."

"You're right. I _need _to."

"No, I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything. I screwed up too, so there's no need-"

"Elsa, shut-" I move fast, sliding forward so that I can put my hand on hers. It's instinctual, I don't even give myself time to think of a better idea. Obviously, Elsa flinches and gasps when I'm suddenly right up in her face. But she doesn't pull her hand back, and she even meets my gaze for a couple of seconds before turning her eyes back to the floor.

I couldn't let her keep blaming herself.

"I mean it," I start with maybe a bit too much intensity. Before continuing, I take a deep breath and speak more calmly. "I'm here for you, Elsa. You said that I shouldn't make promises that I can't keep, well this is a promise I _can_. No more running, no more yelling, no more blaming you for stupid shit. I'm not going anywhere, and I will _always _be here for you."

This is a really big promise, and a hard one to keep. But when I close my eyes, I see...so many things. I see me and Aurora at her father's mansion, while Elsa waits for me to come back. I see me getting black-out drunk on top of a bar counter, while Elsa waits to continue our conversation. I see me storming out with a duffel bag full of clothes, while Elsa cries alone in her room. I see me walking back ashamed, while Elsa sits with that...that _fucking _knife.

I squeeze Elsa's hand, "Just tell me what you need."

Everything about what's going right now is so unlike me. I'm usually not this vulnerable and soft-spoken. I mean I did almost tell her to shut up, but I held my tongue, which is more than I can usually say for myself.

It's terrifying, but also liberating. And I hope Elsa can see that I really, truly am here for her. And that she'll let me be here.

There's more of that silence, but it feels different this time. It's colder, full in the sense that it's the only thing surrounding us right now. I can't even hear the clock ticking. But since all that's around us is the quiet and the rain hitting the windows, the feel of her thumb brushing mine feels so much more sensitive. And her soft voice gives me an answer loud and clear:

"Do you...wanna watch a movie?"


	20. Day 107

**Day One Hundred and Seven: Anna, the Waitress**

**A/N: Hello hello. This is the second major timeskip of the story, don't worry we won't be doing these all the time. But there are moments where nothing of note is happening in their lives, and I really don't think you guys want ten chapters straight of "Anna comes back from the gym, Elsa gets back from therapy, and they binge-watch Parks and Rec for the twentieth time." **

**Anyway, the angst storm has finally settled (for now), and things are gonna start ramping up for Beauty and the Bitch. Hope you guys like conversations.**

* * *

I've done a lot of crazy stuff in my life. I've also done a lot of dumb stuff in my life. But going back to work as a waitress? Downright idiotic. The door to our place cannot open fast enough, and when I get inside, I immediately plop down onto the couch.

"Uuuuuuuuugh!" I groan before flopping face down onto the beaten-up throw pillow.

Elsa's sitting in the chair next to me typing away on her laptop, way too used to this. "How was work today?" she asks neutrally.

"Muh mmph muh _muuuuuh!"_ I respond with my face still buried into the cotton.

"That bad, huh?"

"Mmhmm…muh mmph muuuuh…"

"Anna, you know I don't understand you when you talk like that."

I flip over begrudgingly, "I swear the next old guy that tries to hit on me because I 'remind them of a lost love' is gonna get punched in the mouth."

"Did anyone comment on your tattoo?" she asks, trying to ease my frustration.

I blow an unruly strand of hair off my face and cross my arms. From an outsider's perspective, this might look like a stereotypical therapy session, what with me laying on a couch talking about my problems, and Elsa sitting across from me and typing away. "A little girl told me she 'liked my birdies'," I reply and then mumble, "That was pretty cute…"

"But everything else sucked?" Elsa sighed, "Anna, why don't you just take that job at the coffee shop?"

"You know I'm not cheery enough to fit in there."

"Or that office job?"

"Sitting in front of a computer all day? Yeah, I'll pass."

Elsa frowns at the obvious dig on her career, "The bakery?"

"I fucking hate baking, and you know it."

She chuckles, "Yeah I know. But come on, there's gotta be _something _you like about the diner."

"...the tips are nice." I'm never gonna complain about a hundred dollars a week in my wallet. And this is going to sound really conceited, but I swear people tipped more once I started working there. I guess everyone likes a redhead in a ponytail and apron.

I could easily quit and give up on this whole "having a job" business, but that's a bad idea. I need to keep myself preoccupied so I don't ruminate (a new word I learned, thanks to Elsa) on all the shit that happened with Aurora. I haven't talked to her since that day, even though she's tried contacting me a few times, and I'm still too ashamed to tell Elsa much, so talking to _her_ isn't an option just yet either.

Which left me with, in my opinion, two options: hole myself up in my room until I'm finally ready to go outside and be Anna again, or keep myself so busy that I don't even have time to think about what happened.

I chose the latter, obviously.

Hey, it's actually been helping more than I thought it would. It's not like I'm denying my emotions or feelings or whatever, I'm just making it so I don't waste all my time _ruminating_. And I'm taking all the energy I'd spend on helping myself and using it to help others. Okay well "help" is a strong word. It's more like I don't spill their food on their lap, and I laugh at their shitty jokes so they pay more.

Anyway, enough about me for now. I sit up and cross my legs, and the fried onion smell on my uniform hits me dead in the face. "Bleugh. So, how's the novel coming along?"

Finally, Elsa closes her laptop. She sighs and pouts, "I'm stuck."

I raise an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"There's this chapter that I've been trying to write for two weeks now. I'm about to introduce a major conflict between the two main characters, and I want to do that with some confrontational dialogue." She rubs the back of her neck, "The problem is that I want it to sound realistic and, you know me, I'm not good at confrontation."

Understatement of the year, then again _I'm _not good at it either.

With two decent-selling novels to her name, you'd think that Elsa wouldn't struggle with this kind of thing. But then I've written zero novels, so who am I to judge? "What's this one about again?"

She taps her fingers on her laptop and bites her lip, "It's uh...this risky office romance thing. The main characters were together, had a falling out, and they don't see each other for years until one of them gets employed at the other's company."

I smirk, "Well I never thought I'd see the day that _Elsa Stark _would be writing a romance novel."

"My publisher thinks it'd be good if I expanded my range," Elsa explains with a pout.

"Mmhmm. Sure. So which chapter do they have steamy office sex in?"

"Anna!" She says, visibly red in the face now. "It's not that kind of story!"

Once I calm down from my laughing fit at the expense of Elsa's embarrassment (almost snorting a few times), I speak, "What's it called?"

"I don't know yet, I'm thinking something like 'Business and Pleasure'. It's gonna have the word 'business' in it, I know that for sure."

"Oh my gosh," I reply amused. "Please don't call it that. It sounds like the name of a 1980s porno."

After a second of pondering and lip-biting, Elsa quickly opens up her laptop and I hear her smack a key a few times. "Noted...", she says with more of that redness painting her face.

"Well, I could help but then it'd just end up reading like bad fanfiction. They'd probably just yell at each other. And it'd end with them getting into a fight, a physical one." Or they'd get kicked out of the house for disrespecting their bitch of a stepmother...

Elsa laughs, setting her laptop on the coffee table and sitting cross-legged on her chair. "That's okay. I think I just need a break, that's all. I've been racking my brain on this for so long, it's not going to be as good as I want it to if I keep trying to force something. I need to clear my head."

Clearing her head, I could go for the same thing right now. My head, not hers. Suffering as a waitress can only do so much to help with my psyche. Which is doubly impacted by me only going to two places: the diner, and Arendelle Towers.

The one thing that's different, though, is that I'm cooped up in here with a calmer, supportive, much more easygoing Elsa. Ever since I groveled for her forgiveness and ruined her shirt with my snot and tears, it's like things are normal again.

A new, _new _normal.

And I'm also calmer, I think? I'm keeping to my promise of being there for her and I'm overall nicer to her. Which is surprisingly easy to do after making her almost kill herself.

Which I still haven't forgiven myself for, but that's not important right now.

'

We talk about shit, she tells me about therapy, hell we even started watching late-night movies together again. She even came with me to the first couple of interviews I got when I started looking for a part-time job. If she wasn't my ex, then I'd definitely be comfortable calling her my friend.

I just haven't told her about Aurora yet...

Elsa's resting her hands on her knees, and tapping her fingers. Before she can ask me something, I beat her to the punch. "Hey, when's the last time you and I went out and did something?"

Elsa blinks, startled by my question. "Uh...your birthday."

Oh, right. Shit.

I bite my lip, "Er...mmkay, when was the last time we did something that didn't end with one of us getting depressed?"

"Umm…" Elsa ponders this for a second and then tilts her head, "I can't think of anything. At least since we moved in here. Does going to the movies count?"

Absolutely not, I was on edge that entire time. "Eh, I guess so but not really." I scoot my butt over to the other side of the couch so I'm closer to Elsa, and I lean on the armrest. "Anyway, I've got the day off tomorrow. Why don't we go and, you know, do something?"

Elsa looks at me with wide eyes, and I grow a little self-conscious. Was it too much to ask? It's not like this is the first time I've asked her to hang out, but it's definitely the first time since our (most recent) blow-up. I'm about to take back the invitation when she shakes her head and clears her throat.

"Ahem, sorry about that. I was just surprised because I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Oh. For real?"

"Mmhmm."

"So, I take it that means you _want _to go do something?"

"I-I mean if you're up for it then sure. Absolutely. Yeah, let's go do something."

Uh...huh. Something's off. Do I ask her about it? Fuck it, I want to anyway. "Are you okay? You seem a little, I don't know, awkward."

She laughs, or she makes a weird high-pitched breathy noise that I think is her laughing, "I-I'm always awkward, Anna. You know me."

"Yeah but more awkward than usual. Did I say something wrong again?"

"No! No no, you're okay- you didn't say anything wrong, you just said what I was thinking so I was surprised. This is me surprised, that's all."

I roll my eyes, "Buuuuullshiiiit. Come on, Elsa. Something's wrong, what is it?"

"Nothing's wrong!" She wrings her hands together, showing me that there's definitely something wrong. Or at least there's something she doesn't wanna tell me. And then it clicks.

I scoff, "You didn't think I wanted to hang out with you anymore!"

"I-I...you…" Elsa closes her eyes and sighs, "It's just that things are weird between us, so I wasn't sure if I should ask."

"Things are _always _weird between us."

She bites her lip, "Good point. I thought you'd want some space from me, that's all. Whatever it is that you went through seemed like it really hurt you. And I _want _to be there for you, but I was afraid that if I tried to get close at all, then you'd just feel even worse. Part of the reason you feel so bad is because of me, right?"

It takes me a second to realize that she's referring to the whole me getting mad at her while hungover, and possibly me crying on her a few days later. I sigh, "Maybe like ten percent. But Elsa, you know if I didn't want anything to do with you, I would be trying way harder to avoid you."

"Um, thank you?"

"No problem," I replied sarcastically, "My point is that I've got nothing against you. Not anymore, at least."

"But you _used _to."

"Yes, but _not anymore. _Let's focus on that, and _not _on our fucked-up past." The irony of that statement isn't lost on me, considering I haven't told her much about my fucked-up last few weeks.

It's not that I don't trust her, hell she's one of the few people I _can _trust right now, but...yeah.

"Well what did you have in mind?" I ask, trying to get back on-topic, "After all, you were gonna ask me to hang out too, right?"

"I...kind of had this whole thing planned."

"What? Were you gonna give like a speech or something?"

"No. Well kind of?"

Okay this is going nowhere. I stand up and sit cross-legged on the coffee table so that now we're face to face. Whenever she used to step around asking me something, I would usually do something like this. Get close enough so she couldn't look at anything but me, but not so close that she can't move away. And then I say, "Spill it, Elsa Stark."

She goes wide-eyed again for a second before opening her mouth, letting out a sharp breath, and pouts, "How does that _still _work?"

I wink and give her a smug grin.

"There's a pretty important day coming up for me, and it involves that girl I told you about before."

"Mystery Bitch," I nod, "Yes, I remember."

"Uh...o-okay? Well, there are some things that I need to get off my chest about that. Stuff that I haven't said out loud to anyone, not even my family. My therapist told me that I should find someone to vent about this with, so it doesn't stay in my head anymore. She said it should be someone close to me."

"Wait...you're talking about me?"

She looks at me and then at her hands, almost defeatedly. To say that I'm shocked about this would be an understatement, but I don't say anything else. Not yet. Not until she's finished.

"I know it seems pathetic that the person I feel closest to right now is my ex-girlfriend, but that's how it is. If that makes you uncomfortable in any way, then I'm sorry."

It should, I think, given our weird living situation. But it doesn't.

I don't know what I'm feeling right now, like I feel warm all over but I also kinda want to scoot back so I'm not so close to her. Not because I'm uncomfortable, but because I can't really predict what's going to happen anymore. With her _and _with me.

Fuck, am I having another internal dilemma again? I thought we were done with these.

"And what I have to say kind of has to do with you anyway. Or it had to do with us, and why we broke up."

I find myself still at a loss for words, which might be okay since it seems like Elsa's not done yet.

She wrings her hands together. "So my plan- if you were up for it- was to climb Sunrise Peak because hiking helps clear my head up a lot." It's the same for me too. "I'll tell you what I need to tell you and then hopefully, finally…" She sighs and looks back at me with a shrug, "Let it go."

"Uh, let what go?"

"This thing that's been heavy on my heart for a while. It's like this really big weight that I need to just let go, you know?"

I do know.

I know way too much about what that feels like.

Elsa clears her throat, "So yeah, anyway, that's my plan. I-I don't know if you had anything you wanted to do. If you did, we could just do that instead and put my plan off for a little bit longer."

"No!" I interrupt her, way too loud, "I just mean that...uh...shit, what was I gonna say?"

She shrugs.

"Um, I don't...want you to put off what you wanna do just because you're concerned about me. You had a plan anyway, and I didn't. Besides, a hike sounds pretty nice right about now. It's still warm enough that I won't freeze my ass off, and I need an excuse to wear these new leggings I bought."

And maybe it's time for me to tell Elsa some things too, maybe it's time for me to tell her about Aurora. It's been like two months, and that heaviness that Elsa mentioned seems pretty familiar. It might explain why I feel so guilty and intimidated sometimes when I look at her.

Elsa smiles and lets out what I think is a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Anna, it means a lot that you're on board with this."

"Don't mention it." Ugh, there's that intimidating feeling again. I need to get out of here, but I need to keep it from sounding like I'm trying to avoid Elsa. Which I'm not, I'm just trying to avoid this damn feeling. "Now if you excuse me, I think it's about time I take a shower. I gotta get this goddamn uniform off of me."

"Yeah," she giggled, "That's probably for the best."

My face muscles move into what I hope is a smile, and I get off the table. A hot shower will help calm me down hopefully, and if anything it'll at least get this smell of fried onions off of me. I hate onions, I hate being a waitress.

And I hate unexplainable feelings.


	21. Day 108

**Day One Hundred and Eight: Sunrise Peak**

**A/N: Surprise! Happy Valentine's Day to all you other lonely sons of bitches like me. If you've got no love to spend it with, why not live vicariously to the twisted love-life of Elsa and Anna?**

**...I need like...a hug or something.**

* * *

You know in hindsight, a relationship between Aurora and I would have ended horribly. She got me back to doing things I vowed never to do again like getting blackout drunk and destroying private property. And I kept wanting her approval, and her company so fucking bad. I lost myself a little bit near the end...and the middle...and maybe the beginning? And although her impulsiveness may have been good at the start, who knew how long it would take before that bit me in the ass.

She was like me in a lot of ways, the problem with that is...sometimes _I _barely like being me.

Plus, you know, there was the whole lying to me about her boyfriend thing. That's kind of a dealbreaker for me. But enough about Aurora, let's talk about me and Elsa.

Wait, not like that. I meant like let's talk about what me and Elsa are doing right now. Shit, that sounds even worse.

Hiking! We're fucking hiking! Why do I make everything sound so goddamn weird? Ugh.

"You okay over there?"

I shake my head and tilt my head up, I must have started going slower because Elsa's way further along the trail than I remember. A good fifty feet maybe. "Uh y-yeah, just taking in the view!"

I jog over to her, passing by the vast space of dirt, rocks, and nothingness between us. She eyes me curiously, "If you say so."

"What? You don't know, maybe I have a thing about dirt."

Elsa snorts, "Come on, we're almost there."

I was never much of a hiker before I met Elsa, I was perfectly fine only getting any physical activity done at the gym. But then one day I made the mistake of letting her plan a date, and she dragged me to this mountain trail near her apartment.

I ended up loving it.

There's just something about being out here in the quiet, only hearing the wind, and your shoes crunching on the rocks underneath you, that feels very therapeutic. It's like one way or another, you leave all of your problems at the trailhead and get out of your mind for a little bit. Or at the very least, get your thoughts straight.

Which we both need right now.

As we walk, I can't help but notice that there's a different energy to Elsa. A mix of peacefulness and excitement, like she's ready to both walk along this trail for hours, or burst forward and leave me in the dust. It's something I haven't seen since the day at Grand Arendelle Park.

Hopefully, today will have a different result.

"Is there something on my face?"

I blink, "Wha…?"

Elsa points a finger at her cheek, "You're staring at me. Do I have something on my face?"

"No! Uh no, sorry I just spaced out. That's all." Ugh, why does this keep happening? All I did was think about telling Elsa about Aurora, and suddenly I can't focus on anything other than _that_. And I'm not even sure I want to tell her today, either, but it feels like the timing's right. That's all. I don't _have _to, but I feel like I should.

She moves the hand that was near her cheek back to the top of her chest, she's been doing that a lot today too. "Umm...well I gotta ask again: are you okay, Anna?"

"Me? Yeah! I-I'm fine, it's been a while since I've been on a hike, I guess."

"And it's because we're out here alone, isn't it?"

"What? Why would you say that? We're always alone in the room," I reason.

"Yeah, but you and I always have some way to escape if something goes wrong. I'm sorry if I made you come out here when you didn't want to, but I _did _ask." Elsa pauses to drink from her water bottle and then gestures with it, "Thank you for coming with me, though."

Huh, that's new. I don't think I've ever heard Elsa add something after needlessly apologizing, and I certainly didn't expect it to be a thank you for doing the bare minimum. I wonder what other surprises are waiting for me today. "N-no problem. It's not that I didn't want to, it's not about you at all, it's…"

"You're nervous."

I almost trip on a pebble. When I regain my composure, I say, "Holy shit, how can you tell?"

She laughs and then gives me a sheepish grin, "Because so am I. You're not the only one that's got a lot on her mind today, Anna."

Right, there's that big confession or whatever that she has to tell me. Part of me is nervous about that, too. What is she gonna tell me about Mystery Bitch™? Am I going to find out who she is? Did she..._do _something to Elsa?

I shake that thought out of my head before I ruminate on it further. ...I don't think I used that word correctly this time, fuck it.

"You know you don't _have _to say anything if you don't want to."

Elsa looks at me seriously, "I want to, and I need to."

I...don't know what to say about that. Elsa senses my hesitation and lets out another nervous laugh, "Yeesh, that was a little too serious, huh? Come on, we're almost there. We can talk about easier, sillier stuff on the way. It might help us both."

* * *

Sunrise Peak is this tucked-away that's part of the greater area of Arendelle Mountain Park. It's not the longest hike or even the highest, but it is one of Elsa's favorites.

The almost one-hour trek through winding dirt roads, naturally-shaped stairs made out of rocks, and a slight climb to the top of the hill reward you with a modest view of the city. The best time to hike here is around 4 AM, because when the sun rises (hence the name), you can see the horizon bathing Arendelle with a bright, orange glow.

Thankfully, Elsa didn't wake me up that early.

The sun's already bright and high when we reach the peak of the hill. The slight breeze makes me wish I wore a jacket, or at least something thicker than a tank top. Elsa's wearing the same outfit, but I doubt she's cold.

Since the sun rose hours ago, there isn't anyone up here with us, and no one else is close enough on the trail that we can see. Which is very convenient.

There are a few boulders large enough to sit on. Elsa takes a seat and pats the boulder next to her with an inviting smile. I'm still hesitant to be close to her when we're all alone like this, but I sit anyway because my feet are killing me.

She sighs, taking in the view. And I do the same, looking off towards Central Arendelle.

"I can see Arendelle Towers from here," I say while pointing at the massive building. Everything looks so small and insignificant from up here. It's hard to believe that I've spent my entire life in a city that's bustling and alive from the inside, but tranquil and silent from the outside.

Elsa points to a bush-like clump of trees, "And there's Central Arendelle Park."

"I can see my old apartment. And yours." Surprisingly, this quaint game of I-Spy is actually helping. It's nice to have these moments without controversy and chaos. "Do you miss it?"

"My apartment? Eh, kinda. The dishwasher still acts up, and I left a bit of a mess in my room that I'm not looking forward to cleaning up when I get back."

I test the waters and let out a more-than-slightly nervous chuckle, "You're probably gonna have to wait a while for that."

Elsa laughs too, but it's more confident than mine, "Yeah, you're probably right. I like Arendelle Towers a lot more if I'm being honest. The beds are nice, and I forgot how much I missed spending time in the heart of the city. Ever since we broke up, I haven't been to Central Arendelle as much."

"Oh...sorry about that." Huh, I didn't mean to say that. It's like you apologize to your ex-girlfriend once and suddenly that's all you can do.

"Hey, that's _my _line," Elsa says amused.

"Sorry. Shit, I did it again. Sorry, I- fuck!" I groan.

She laughs, "It's hard to stop once you keep going, huh?"

I roll my eyes and frown, "I don't know how you do it."

It's like this for a little bit longer. Innocent, harmless banter on top of a big, pointy rock whilst sitting on smaller, less-pointier rocks. And the longer we talk, the more I realize...how much I missed this.

Maybe it took a few horrible arguments to get here, but talking with Elsa feels nice now. Uncomplicated. It's not a chore, or something that I dread. Yeah, there's still some awkwardness here but I feel like that's always gonna be the case.

Right now, though, it doesn't seem as insurmountable as it used to be.

At some point, though, Elsa sighs and I take that as a sign that the conversation's about to take a more serious turn. "So…" she starts, "There's something I have to tell you about my ex-girlfriend. Well, I guess it's more accurate to say that I need to tell you who she was."

I nod, hoping that my anxiousness isn't too noticeable. I mean, at least I _think _it's anxiousness.

She's put her hand back on top of her chest, near her neck, and does that thing where she closes her eyes for a while and breathes. At least now I know that she isn't going to fall asleep or faint, so I don't need to intervene.

"She was..unpredictable, but I liked that. I never knew whether she'd want to go out on an adventure, or spend time with me on campus, or just chill at her apartment while we were talking on the phone. She was bold and daring, everything was new with her. It was exciting and fun, and she really got me out of my shell."

There's a look of fondness on her face while she talks, I've seen this before. We've sorta had this conversation before, but I know that she knows that. And when she frowns, I know I'm about to hear the catch.

"But she was also rude and stubborn, sometimes she'd say something that wouldn't sit right with me and would never apologize for it. And sometimes she'd say something mean about me, and _still _wouldn't apologize. She'd forget plans that we made, and would never suggest dates in advance. Most of her planned dates were her calling me and telling me she was gonna pick me up in half an hour."

Elsa places both her hands back on her lap, "I didn't think those were dealbreakers or red flags, maybe because I was too blind to see them or just didn't wanna be alone. But looking back, the relationship was so unhealthy. Even _if _I thought she was the one…"

Hearing _that _doesn't sit right me, because there was a time when I thought Elsa was the one. But this isn't about me.

"And then _you_…"

Wait, what?

"I don't know what you were up to a couple of months ago, but the way you were acting reminded me of her. And I'm sorry, but it scared me. Sometimes I looked at you, I would see her, and it would take me back to those days."

I let out a choked breath, "Oh shit, Elsa I'm so fucking sorry. If I had known-"

"Please, let me finish," Elsa interrupts calmly, "I'm not mad at you. How could you know what she was like? I didn't really tell you anything about her. But it did hurt, and I needed to remind myself that you weren't her. What you and I had, was _so _much better than what she and I had. You were stubborn and rude too, but you really cared about me and would listen and plan things out. I...sorry, talking about our relationship probably makes you uncomfortable."

"No, I- actually it doesn't." Should it?

Her eyes widen, and I swear I see a little smile twitch on her lips, "Oh, well that's good. Anyway, that's why I was acting so weird around you- that, and my therapist changed my medication recently. I was battling my mind, and I know I was doing some pretty stupid stuff too like signing the release form. I hope you can forgive me for how I've been acting."

She pauses, longer than the ones before this. And when she looks at me with sad, blue eyes, I know that she's finally looking for a response. I don't even have to think about it.

I move around so that my body is facing her, "Elsa, you don't need to apologize. I was being a real bitch because of who _I _was seeing. You weren't doing anything wrong, it was all me."

"Anna…" she sighs, "Thank you."

Again I'm caught off-guard, I was already thinking of other arguments she could have made. Not knowing what to do now, I smile at her and tuck some hair back behind my ear.

Elsa lets out another breath, a sigh of relief it seems like. "Wow, I feel so much better now that I got that off my chest."

"I bet you do," I say with a chuckle.

"Now there's only one thing left to do." Even more surprises, this is turning out to be a very interesting day. And the least complicated one we've had in a while. At least it is, until I remind myself that _I _need to tell her who I was seeing. Which kickstarts my heart fiercely.

But I've got time because Elsa apparently has one last thing on her list. She reaches under her shirt and pulls out a necklace, and there's a ring on it. I've seen this ring before, and it clicks that this was probably was she was touching when she kept putting her hand on her chest.

I doubt she's about to propose, so I just wait anxiously to figure out what this is about.

"This was the ring I was going to propose to her with." Ick, well I was a tiny bit right. "I held onto it this whole time, not because I was hoping she'd come back one day, but because I wanted to remind myself of why it hurt too much to love again."

That's...I should be offended. I should be so fucking offended. But this isn't about me, and I have to believe that she's telling me this now for a reason. So I clench my hands on the boulder and bite my tongue.

"But I can't have this reminder anymore." She holds the ring up to her face and frowns, "I can't have her ghost haunting me anymore. I need to say goodbye."

And then Elsa stands up and walks to the edge of the hilltop, and something compels me to follow her. But I keep a respectable distance, knowing that right now this is her moment. She wanted me to come so that she could apologize and explain her actions.

But this moment...it's just for her.

Still, I can't help the smile that grows on my face, seeing this confident and independent Elsa that I haven't seen...ever. Holy shit. This is a new Elsa, one that I'm comfortable around, one that I wouldn't mind being around.

She clutches the necklace, and the ring, in her hand and throws it far, far away. It glints from the sun's rays before disappearing somewhere into the trees. I give her a few more moments to herself before walking to her, deciding that it was finally time for me to come clean too. Racing heart be damned.

I put a hand on her shoulder, but she speaks one more time before I can say anything. It's soft and said mostly to herself, but I can still hear it. And I wish I hadn't, because what she says stops my racing heart for a second, and sends a massive ton of bricks crashing down on to me:

"Goodbye, Aurora."


	22. Day 109

**Day One Hundred and Nine: The Truth Comes Out**

**A/N: Uuuuuuugh, updating on a Friday was a mistaaaaaaaake. Also, I'm glad some of you guys correctly predicted that Aurora was Elsa's ex that ruined her love life and broke her heart and kickstarted her major anxiety issues and caused her and Anna's relationship to break not just once but twice. **

**I'm proud of y'all. You deserve a cookie. **

* * *

"_Are you even sure it's the same girl?"_

"Rapunzel, how many girls do you know with the name 'Aurora'?"

"_...fair point."_

"Look, I'm still planning on telling her. But I…"

"_You're scared of how she'll take it."_

I flip around so that my legs are hanging off my bed. With Elsa at therapy, I feel comfortable having this conversation in the privacy of my room, although I keep my door open so I can hear when she comes in. It also gives me the confidence to be this brutally honest: "I'm scared of hurting her again."

"_...wow."_

I put an arm over my eyes, "Yeah, I didn't think I could say that, either. After all the awful shit I've done, telling her that I had a thing with her ex-girlfriend...I don't want this to be the shit cherry on her shit sundae. But I still have to do it."

"_Because it's the right thing to do."_

"And also because my stomach won't calm the fuck down."

"_Well, again just be careful about how you do this. You're my friend, Anna, and I hate seeing you hurt. Plus, you guys are...what, almost halfway there? It'd suck if you had to drop out of the contest this late."_

"Yeah...yeah. I need that money." I reply.

But a realization hits me like another ton of bricks: I haven't thought about the money in weeks.

Ugh, one problem at a time, Anna.

"I'm gonna mull this over for a little bit. Can we get food tonight once I talk to Elsa?"

"_Sure. I get off in a couple of hours anyway. Just gotta tell Eugene that he's on his own for dinner tonight."_

"Perfect. See ya tonight."

"_Bye."_

Rapunzel hangs up, and the silence of the hotel room hits me. I've been alone here before, but it's been a while since something this heavy has weighed on my mind. How do I even begin to tell Elsa about Aurora? And how is she gonna take it? Maybe I shouldn't tell her…

No!

I _have _to, she deserves to know. Elsa's been nothing but transparent with me, and I've been keeping secret after secret from her. I have to do this...no matter how it affects our relationship. Our weird, confusing, interesting, fucked-up relationship.

I don't know when she's gonna get back, so I close my eyes and decide to take a nap for now. The less I'm conscious, the less I can stress over this.

* * *

Elsa…

Elsa…

"Anna?"

Wait, what?

I open my eyes faster than should be possible, and Elsa's just...there. A couple of feet above me. "Holy _shit_," I exclaim as I scatter to the other side of my bed. "Elsa, what the fuck?"

Elsa winces, "I'm sorry! Y-you were saying my name so I thought you were awake, and I...I'm sorry…"

"So why were you hovering over me like a puppy?" Interesting choice of words there, Anna.

"Puppy? I-" Elsa shakes her head, "I...don't know? I heard you calling my name, and I guess I wanted to see if you were okay. Maybe I should have just nudged you or something. I didn't mean to give you a heart attack."

I'm seething. I think.

Wait, no I'm not, I'm not even mad once I finally calm down. Besides, she shouldn't be apologizing for anything anymore. "No, Elsa it's okay." I grab my blanket and wrap it around myself, has it always been this fucking cold in here or is it just me? "There's no need to- wait, what's that?"

There's a plastic bag on my nightstand where my phone is charging. Elsa looks at it, and then back at me, "Oh that? It's...nothing, just a late birthday present. Very late, aha."

"A present for me?" I scoot forward, eyeing her curiously. I mean of course it is, who else would it be? For her? For Aurora?

Wow. Bad fucking joke, Anna.

She rubs the back of her neck, and up this close I can see that she's blushing. But then, of course, she's so pale I can _always _tell when she's blushing. She's...flustered? Embarrassed? Either way, it's something I haven't seen from her in a while.

"Yeah, you mentioned how much your job was stressing you out, so I thought I'd get you something that might help."

I mimic her movements, rubbing the back of my own neck, eyeing the bag like it's got her entire life savings in it, "Elsa, you didn't have to do that."

"I know I didn't _have _to," she says while moving her hand from the back of her neck to her elbow, "But I wanted to."

"Why?" Holy shit Anna, just accept the fucking gift and stop interrogating her. "Why are you being so nice to me after everything I've done to you?"

God I hate myself. Partially for the unnecessary questions, but mostly because, after I tell her about Aurora, she won't be nice to me ever again.

Elsa sighs and shrugs, "I really don't harbor any negative feelings toward you Anna, I never did."

Wow, does _that _make me feel the biggest piece of shit in the world, knowing that I used to. I sigh, "Elsa, I can't accept this gift."

"Well too bad, because I'm not taking it back." Stubbornness, another mood I haven't seen in a while. She grabs the plastic bag and places it on the bed in front of me. "At least see what I bought, I think you'll like it."

Not wanting to feel even shittier by protesting more, I do what she says. I take the plastic bag and grab what's inside it. The receipt is still in here, though I highly doubt that's the gift. It's gotta be this smooth, kinda squishy…

Otter.

I hold it up, "Uh...huh."

"Otters are still your favorite animal, right?"

"Of course," I reply, "But, what _is _this?" It's too fragile to be a stuffed animal, but not solid enough to be food.

"It's a stress toy," Elsa answers. "Like a stress ball, but shaped like an animal. You said work was stressing you out, so I thought this might help. My therapist convinced me to get one too, and it's helped a lot. Just squeeze it a few times and take some deep breaths anytime you feel overwhelmed, it won't solve everything but it'll help."

"You got an otter too?"

She chuckles, "No, I got one of _my _favorite animal."

"A penguin. Right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Elsa smiles. I'm surprised that I even remember that, and she looks like she's genuinely happy that I did. It felt like the memory just came to me at that moment. "It was harder to find than an otter, those were almost sold out."

So wait...not only did she remember that my job was stressing me out, but she actually went out of her way to try and help me. And she specifically looked for a stress toy of my favorite animal. And what have _I _done for her lately? Slept with her ex-girlfriend, and didn't tell her about it.

I'm absolute human garbage.

Elsa senses my hesitation and frowns, "You don't like it, do you?"

"What? No! I-I do, I really do. Trust me. It's perfect, and I'll probably use it _a lot._ I...I….," I sigh, "Elsa, there's something I need to tell you."

I don't want to tell her, I really don't want to. Or maybe it's more accurate to say that I wish I didn't _have _to. I wish this thing with Aurora never happened, I wish I didn't hurt Elsa so bad that she had to...or almost had to...I can't even say it. When she sits close to me on the bed, and smiles at me supportively, the words get choked up in my throat.

But this has to happen, I need to power through. I need to make this right. "Who...Aurora. What did she look like?"

There's a lot of apprehension in Elsa's eyes when she hears the name of that dreaded woman again, the one that- well, the _first _girl that broke her heart. I hope among hopes that she describes a completely different person.

"Um, she had blonde hair that was a little darker than mine." Shit. "Kind of a deep voice." Shit. "And she had a bunch of tattoos on her arms." _Shit._

"Was one of them a rose around her right forearm?" I ask hopelessly.

"Yeah. H-how did you…"

Elsa doesn't need to finish that question. When she sees the guilt on my face, it becomes perfectly clear. And she goes from confused, to hurt and betrayed in seconds.

"Oh."


	23. Day 113

**Day One Hundred and Thirteen: The Aftermath**

**A/N: I don't actually have anything important to note. Uh...hi, how was your day?**

* * *

The crack on the otter's forehead is getting worse. His smile, a curvy "W" that looks my bird tattoo flipped upside down, is happier than it has any business being. How can you be happy when you have your head squished on an hourly basis?

Regardless, I squeeze him again- always in the same spot- and take a deep breath. On the exhale, I loosen my grip. It helps...kinda.

"_I need some time to myself. Is that okay?"_

That was the last thing Elsa said to me before going silent and possibly invisible. I haven't seen or heard from her in four days, and I'm getting worried. Well, even more worried than I was before my confession.

I don't know what made me feel worse: the hurt look on Elsa's face when I told her about sleeping with her ex, or when I vomited my guts out in the toilet afterward. Either way, it's shit all around. The otter helps a little bit, though, but I feel like it'd help more if I didn't feel so guilty about _Elsa _giving it to me.

Being a bitch sucks.

I wish I knew a way to make it up to her aside from turning back time and undoing my mistake. Of course, knowing how to make it up to her would require her talking to me again.

Even though we've had these spells of silence before, this one feels different. Worse, I think. Maybe it's because I _know _I did something wrong this time. And I would never admit this to anybody, but in some odd way, it feels like I _cheated _on Elsa. Which might explain why I want to make this up to her so bad.

"Hey new girl, we need you back up here!"

I roll my eyes before peeking around the corner and giving my manager a bright and cutesy smile. "Coming!" I exclaim. It's been weeks, and she still hasn't bothered to learn my name. I hate this place sometimes, but it gets me out of the room so whatever.

I put Wilhelm (yes, I named the otter) back into my locker and tie my apron back on. Time to fake being happy.

* * *

Have I ever mentioned that I hate the smell of onions? Because I do. I really do.

Thankfully my shift is over, and so is my ten-minute trek back to Arendelle Towers. Once I get back into my room, I begin my nightly ritual of washing the diner smell off of me, grabbing my pint of ice cream from the freezer, and binge-watching whatever's on TV. Or at least I'm going to, but once I shower and change into my pajamas, I instead flop onto my bed.

Just for a moment, just so I can take a minute to relax and sink into the mattress. It's Monday, and sometimes Elsa will join me in my binge-watching fest on Mondays, but I don't think that's going to be the case right now.

Or maybe ever again.

It's the little things like that which I didn't appreciate until now. Watching TV, shit-talking the people below our nine-story window, finding four or five pints of ice cream in the freezer, the sigh I'd hear from her room that let me know she just finished writing a particularly difficult chapter.

I...what is this? Holy shit, do I miss her? Do I miss Elsa? Huh, who would have guessed _that _would happen. Anyway, it's not something I can dwell on right now. Not when the ice cream is beckoning for me just ten feet away. God, it'll feel so good to-

_Knock knockknock knock knock._

Huh, haven't heard that in a while.

I'm thinking that I may have misheard it, or it's just my mind playing a trick on me, but then I hear a soft voice behind my door, "Anna?"

I haven't heard that in a while either. It feels...nice. To hear it.

My hesitation only lasts for a second- what if it's bad news?- before I pull myself out of my bed and walk to my door. It's okay, I tell myself, everything's okay. Everything has to be okay. Everything needs to be okay.

A part of my mind is still screaming at me to keep the door closed, but I tell it to fuck off and open the door anyway.

And it's her, it's Elsa, only four days older.

She's more...put-together than I thought she would be. Not that I was expecting her to look like a bum, but she looks fine. Her face is calm and spotless (that's a weird way to put it Anna, what the fuck), her hair is in a neatly combed ponytail, and she's got a baggy shirt on and pajama pants with one of the legs running up to her knee.

I know this look, this is her "just woke up from a nap" look.

It's such a hard tell on whether or not this is gonna be good or bad. My heart starts to race when I think about what she could say, and I can't help but shake the notion that it's bad. Even if the lazy smile she has says otherwise, it wouldn't be the first time she's hidden how she feels. Wow, okay now is _not _the time to be criticizing _her_, Anna.

I'm just nervous. Really fucking nervous.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," I say right back to her, trying to keep myself calm and composed.

"Anna-" Nope, I can't do it.

"Elsa, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so _so _fucking sorry for sleeping with Aurora. And for ditching you, and for...god, just for _everything_! If I had known who she was, I _never _would have gone out with her in the first place. And if I could, I'd go back in time and not do it because just hearing what she did to you, and us, made me so sick. And _goddamn _I should have been here for you instead of getting drunk and breaking walls with sledgehammers, so please just don't leave. I promise I can make it up to you somehow, so please, _please _don't leave, Elsa. You can be mad at me forever if you want to, and that's fine, but-"

"Anna, I'm not mad at you. And I'm not leaving."

"But, er- I...uh, what? You're not leaving?"

She shakes her head.

"A-and you're not mad?"

She nods.

"How?"

"I never said I was," Elsa replies with an amused chuckle. "I told you that I needed time to myself, remember?"

I blink, "Well, y-yeah of course I remember, but I thought that meant…"

"That I was mad at you? I mean I guess I could see how you'd think that, but it wasn't the case." Elsa takes a second to tilt her head to get rid of a crick in her neck, "Anna, I never told you who she was or what she looked like- I didn't even say her name! How could I be mad at you for being with Aurora if you didn't even know who she was?"

I...uh...hmm.

"I _just_ needed to be alone for a little bit. Hearing her name, especially in that context, after telling myself I was finally letting her go...it was a bit too much. I needed to sort myself out, and obviously talk to my therapist. That's all it was, really, you and I are fine."

Well, when she puts it like that, I guess it was pretty stupid that I was stressing out so much about it. And Elsa usually tells me how she's feeling, so I would have known if she was mad.

But I still feel guilty, and I need to do something about it.

I shake my head, "I-I still feel like a piece of shit anyway. There has to be _something _I can do to make this up to you."

Elsa's still smiling, it kinda feels like she might have expected this from me. She shakes her head, "There's really nothing for you to make up, believe me."

"No. Come on, Elsa. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it. Just name it."

"Anna…"

"Please," I say a little too desperately, "I have to do this. I wanna make things right between us." Those words sound so off coming from me, maybe it's because I never thought I'd say them in a million years. Or it might be because, although I've thought them, I never said those words out loud until now. I don't do the whole pleading look, so I hope me looking at Elsa with sad eyes and my "Please buy this for me" frown are adequate enough.

Elsa looks like she's gonna say no again, but she stops herself and looks up like she's having an internal debate. After a second, she straightens her posture and nods, "Okay fine. Set me up with one of your friends."

…

Uh…

What?

"Wh-what?" Subconsciously, I take a small step back, "Did I just...did you just...what?"

Elsa shrugs, "You asked me for a way to make things right, and I'm giving it to you. I think it's only fair that I go out on a date with one of your friends after you slept with my ex-girlfriend."

"You- uh...seriously?" Holy _shit_, my heart is racing fast. I expected something like giving her money or letting her punch me in the face. Not...not _this_. Again, my brain is being overloaded by thoughts and words and stress, I'm surprised that I don't just throw up right then and there.

And Elsa is just standing there, not giving me _anything_. Just another shrug, and her continuing with her request, "Is Kristoff still seeing someone? How about Lilo? She's pretty cute, is she single?"

I genuinely cannot believe what I'm hearing. Elsa's never expressed any interest in dating anyone anymore, let alone one of my friends (I should probably hang out with Kristoff soon, it has been a while) so to hear this is baffling. It's seriously breaking my brain, like finding out your mom is a lesbian or something.

I have to say something, anything, just to keep my brain from frying and my heart from beating so fast it'll fly out of my chest. "Er, I- uh, huh?!" I say eloquently, "You wanna go out with Lilo? I-I mean if that's what you really want, I did say that I'd do anything. And I guess setting you up with one of my friends falls in that category, but I _really _wasn't expecting this. I mean I know she's mentioned that you were cute once so maybe I could probably talk to her about it, but I'm pretty sure she's straight. Plus she's home all the time and, I-"

She snickers. Elsa snickers.

"What? What's so funny?" Ah shit, did I forget to wear pants again?

"I'm _joking_, Anna!" she replies with the most wide-eyed, incredulous look on her face like _I'm _the crazy one.

My brain breaks some more. I stare at Elsa, mouth open like a broken nutcracker, trying to hold on for dear life on this emotional rollercoaster. "You're...what?"

She shakes her head, chuckling to herself, "You don't need to set me up with any of your friends. Although Lilo _is _cute, she's not my type."

"So you _don't _want me to ask her?"

"Nope, I just wanted to mess with you," she says with a cheeky fucking grin as she steps towards me and puts her hands on my shoulders. "You and I are _just fine_, trust me. There's nothing to make up for, there's no debt that you owe, the past is in the past."

"I…are you sure?"

"One hundred and ten percent sure. Now come on, it's Monday right? Lemme get the ice cream from the freezer." Elsa walks out of my room before I can say anything else.

She...she was joking. She was just messing with me. We're fine, more fine than we've probably _ever _been. We're about to watch TV and eat mint ice cream and everything will feel okay again. It's something that should be celebrated. There are no more conflicts, no more awkward conversations we need to have, no daunting days ahead of us.

Everything is fine, fucking fine.

Then why…

Why is my heart still racing?


	24. Day 138

**Day One Hundred and Thirty-Eight: Chicken Fight**

**A/N: Very mild suggestive sexual thingie at the end. This slow burn bullshit is over.**

* * *

Rapunzel resurfaces from the bottom of the pool with a splash that sends her long hair nearly smacking onto my face.

"Bleugh, maybe warn me next time before you do that?" I say as I sputter out bits of blonde.

"Ah, sorry Anna," she replies with a sheepish grin, "But you know how much I love the water. Gosh, I can't believe we didn't come here sooner."

I flick droplets of water her way, "Well I kept inviting you guys, but you were all _so busy _with your jobs, and your boyfriends, and school. Ick."

"And annoying little brothers," Lilo added as she floated between us, laying on her back as the chlorine-infested waters dragged her away. "Can't forget those."

It's a sunny, mid-September afternoon, that time of year where finally the heat isn't scorching in Arendelle. Life's settled into a much-needed groove ever since, well, _everything _and my friends finally found the time to come to the pool with me- only took them like four fucking months, but whatever.

And even then, it's only Lilo and Rapunzel here today, but we're gonna be joined by someone else pretty soon.

We're not swimming in one of the massive, main pools that attract everyone and their mother. We're at one of the more secluded private pools. The ones you could only get into if you paid a fee (thanks to the contest's black card, I didn't have to worry about that).

It's serene, quiet except for the Bluetooth speaker playing by the poolside. We'll be here for maybe an hour or two more before drying up and getting food.

And it's good, things are good. Way better than they've ever been. I get to live in an amazing hotel, my friends don't hate me, I ditched a woman that was going to ruin me and break my heart, and Elsa and I are...we're fine. Everything's fine between us. Sometimes we're even better than fine.

I've come to the conclusion that while I may never see her as a friend, I don't see her as just a roommate either. There's no term for us that really fits, so I just call her Elsa. That's what she is to me: she's Elsa. An enigma that exists in this place in my life where I never thought she'd be in, and in a better place than I ever thought she'd be again.

She's Elsa, and we're okay, and I wish she would hurry the hell up and get down here.

I feel specks of water hit my cheek, which makes me flinch. I turn to Rapunzel whose conveniently put her hands back to her sides, "When did she say she'd be down?"

I look at the nonexistent watch on my wrist and shrug, "She said to give her like ten minutes."

"So you two are okay now?" Lilo asked, somehow floating behind me without me noticing.

"Uhh...as okay as we're ever gonna be, I think."

Maybe it's the islander genetics in her, but she floats away _really _fast. (Is that racist? Shit, I really hope not) She's already like six or so feet away from me when I answer, but I can still see her scoff and mumble out a word I don't fully understand. "What was that?"

"I said 'bet'!" Lilo yelled.

What's _that _supposed to mean? I look to Rapunzel for any sort of answer, but she just gives me an innocent shrug and asks, "You sure you guys are okay?"

"I'm pretty sure. After I told her about Aurora, I was scared that we wouldn't be, but ever since then, we've been doing the whole roommate thing pretty well. I think we can actually make it through the rest of the year without anything weird happening."

Rapunzel raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean by that?"

Oh nothing, just the periodic heart-racing feeling I get whenever I look at her. Which means nothing, which _has _to mean nothing. And it's because it means nothing that I've decided not to tell Rapunzel or anyone else about it. Because it means nothing, and I can figure out by myself how to make sure it _stays _nothing.

Because that's what it is. It's nothing.

"You know how it is when I think everything's finally going to be okay. Once I let my guard down, something stupid happens that introduces unnecessary angst in our lives."

"Eh, I think some of it's been a little bit necessary."

I scoff, "What about Aurora?"

Rapunzel rolls her eyes, "_Some of it. _Besides, you kinda got yourself into that mess."

"A mess that I don't want to talk about anymore, remember?" Gah, just thinking about her gets me heated, I'm surprised the pool doesn't start boiling. Fortunately, we aren't going to have to talk about her anymore, because another one of my exes just walked right through the door.

Oh...no. Not fortunately.

Not even close.

There are only a few things in life that can leave me speechless. Seeing someone get knocked out at the bar, otters at the aquarium, duct tape, and a certain spot on the back of my neck. But there's one specific thing on that list I thought I wouldn't have to worry about anymore.

...and that's seeing Elsa in a bathing suit.

She's always been a pretty modest dresser, so it's not this skimpy, jaw-dropping two-piece. But even in a lavender one-piece, she still looks amazing. Look, it's perfectly fine for me to mention how attractive she is, okay? I didn't date her just for her personality.

Or at least it _would _be perfectly fine if my heart didn't start racing when I saw her.

"Thanks for waiting for me," Elsa says as she sits by the poolside next to me, her feet resting in the water. "I was having trouble figuring out what to wear."

"Couldn't decide between your one bathing suit?" I joke.

Elsa smiles and speaks softly so I'm the only one that can hear, "You know what I mean."

I do.

Amidst my unnecessary ogling, it hasn't slipped my mind that after a hundred-something days, this is the first time I've seen Elsa's bare legs again. And they look just fine.

Not like...fuck it, I don't need to explain myself. There are some slightly pinkish lines around her upper thigh, but you'd never guess that they were scars unless you got really close. And I'm not doing that.

This has to be an amazing leap for Elsa, and I'm proud of her. And I should tell her that.

"You look nice." No Anna, not like _that_. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Thankfully, she seems to take it well if the softer "Thank you." is any indication. It doesn't help my heart at all.

"Elsa! Glad you could make it!" Rapunzel exclaims, saving me from my stupidity.

She looks away from me- which hey, _now _my heart starts beating normally again- and replies in a normal speaking voice, "Thanks! It's good to see you guys again."

"Well we'd see you more if Anna would stop keeping you to herself," Lilo interjects, conveniently floating close to Elsa. Aaaaand there goes my heart again, what the fuck.

I flip her off, biting my tongue to keep from saying anything.

Elsa laughs, "That's not true. I'm pretty introverted, so staying in is always preferable."

"Well the important thing is you're here with us now," Rapunzel says, exuding her big mom energy. "It wouldn't be the same without you. Right, Anna?"

"Uh, wh-what?" I was _not _ready to be roped into this compliment-fest for Elsa. I was busy staying on my toes underwater so I didn't _have _to focus on Elsa.

"Well you're her roommate," Rapunzel says too matter-of-factly, "You're glad she's here and spending time with us too, right?"

Before I can think about why, I say, "Yeah, of course." My mouth is betraying me worse than my heart is- I'm sure my mind is the only part of me that's on my side. We need to do something other than talk about me and Elsa.

"Now that we're all here, we should play a game," Lilo interjects.

Yeah, something like that.

"Have you guys ever done a Chicken Fight before?"

No, shit, not like that.

"Uh...it sounds familiar, I think?" Elsa shoots a puzzled look my way, and my airy, stammering response tells her that I won't be any help.

"It's that game where you get on a partner's shoulders and try to push someone into the water," Lilo explains. "We've got an even number here, what do you say?"

Rapunzel shrugged, "I'm down if you two are."

Again Elsa looks at me, and the next few minutes play out in my mind. She and I are probably going to be a pair, and obviously I'll get on her shoulders first so that she can ease into the game, and we'll probably have to switch which means she'll be up on _my _shoulders.

And damn I just realized I've seen this swimsuit before, and I _know _what it feels like. And she's seen my bathing suit before, and she knows what it feels like.

...I should say no.

But then I see the look, that damn look. Those damn eyes peeking at the water with a lip bite only I can see. Elsa actually wants to play, and I can't fucking say no.

So I shrug and say, "Sure. Why not?" And of course Elsa's smile widens.

"Woo! Awesome!" Lilo says, punching both her fists in the air. "I call Rapunzel!"

Yup, just like my prophecy foretold. Elsa dips into the pool and immediately shudders when she's fully submerged.

"Cold?" I ask her. That'd be a first.

"Heh, no this is just the first time I've been...like this," she quickly glances down at the water, "In public."

A ghost of my past hell-bent on making me miserable overtakes me, and places my hand on Elsa's shoulders. As much as I want to take it off as soon as it happens, all these happy memories of the best times in our relationship come flooding back. And it makes me want to keep touching her.

...that's weird. Never say that again, Anna.

Anyway, I can't just do the shoulder touch without saying anything, so I look at her and say softly, "I'm proud of you." Just like I was supposed to before.

I mean it too, but that doesn't change the fact that the longer my hand is on her, the harder it'll be to keep from saying anything stupider. Especially now that she's fucking smiling at me like...I don't even know anymore.

I change the subject quickly, "So do you want me to go first?"

Elsa blinks, "First for what? Oh! Uh to get on my shoulders? Sure, I-I mean if you don't mind? I wanna see how this works first."

And the prophecy continues. "I don't mind, that's why I asked."

Rapunzel's already on Lilo's shoulders when we reach the center of the pool. I tell Elsa to squat down a little bit so I can get on, and when I'm on her shoulders, she stands back up with a grunt.

"Excuse you! Don't fucking grunt while you're picking me up."

"Anna, you are a grown woman! And I don't do a lot of squats…" Elsa almost loses her balance before putting her hands on my thighs to brace herself. Of course that brings up a whole plethora of problems for me, but we're not gonna dwell on those right now. Or ever.

"Hey," Rapunzel interjects, "Less chatting, and more chickening."

When I steady myself- and palm the top of Elsa's head a bit too hard in the process- I curl my fingers at Rapunzel, "Bring it, blondie."

Just like that, the fight is on. Rapunzel's wily and has a longer reach, and she's stronger than she looks now that Eugene's got her doing CrossFit. But I'm stronger and more mobile due to my thinner bikini and toned arms (fuck you, I worked for this body).

It's pretty close for the most part since she and I are so damn competitive, there's a bunch of pushing and pulling on both sides. And Elsa's determined to win too once she gets into it.

A bit too determined as it turns out.

She's got great lower body strength on account of her wider hips, and better on her feet than I'll ever be. But her upper body strength is pretty shit, so she has to really hold on tight to my thighs to stay upright.

At some point in the fight, she digs her fingers in at just the right spot…

And I'm pretty sure I black out for a second. Because the next thing I know, Elsa and I are tipping over sideways and I fall into the water with a stinging splash.

Part of me wants to stay in here, especially once I can push myself off of Elsa. I...ugh, I underestimated how much her touch was gonna affect me. I thought it wouldn't anymore, but it's almost as if...no, no that can't be right.

My body betrays me again when it starts screaming at me for air, and I resurface begrudgingly. Rapunzel and Lilo are celebrating their win, and I'm there just in time to see Lilo dump her into the pool. As is tradition.

Now it's time to switch, now it's time for Elsa to be on _my _shoulders. Why did I agree to this again?

Elsa swims up to me looking guilty, "You okay? Sorry I dropped you."

"It wasn't your fault. My hands slipped." Liar. "You ready to do this?"

"Ha...ready as I'll ever be." I can tell from her tone that she's more nervous than uncomfortable. Maybe nervous for the same reason I was? Would that be good or bad? When will I finally stop asking myself these questions?

"Don't worry, I got you," I say reassuringly. And she smiles, making me think that she believes me. "Just make sure to push her a lot. And don't fall."

"Gee thanks. I'll try my best," Elsa says.

I pick up a bit of deadpan in her voice, "Elsa Stark, were you just being sarcastic?"

"Shh don't tell anyone," Elsa joked. "It'd hurt my reputation."

I don't know if she's being this outgoing and playful for my benefit, or to ease her own nerves, but either way I...I kinda like it. It's a side of Elsa that I haven't seen in a while, one I know very well.

It's so nice that it almost makes me forget my heart pounding in my ears when she gets on my shoulders. Almost…

But when I feel her skin on mine, I come crashing back down to Earth.

It feels familiar and yet so new at the same time. Instantly, my mind is reeling with _very unhelpful _memories. I have to force myself not to act on this instinct I thought I lost when I grip her thighs.

And yet it feels different. Despite how wet Elsa is (goddamn it, not like that) I can still feel areas of her skin that feel rougher than the rest. Thin lines that I shouldn't be feeling, thin lines that I helped make.

And now I feel like a scumbag for two reasons.

I brush that aside, or at least try to, so I can focus on evening up the score and making sure that Elsa wins. I mean so that we win. Yeah.

It doesn't end well this time around either. Since I'm so goddamn inept at staying on my feet without thinking about feeling Elsa's thighs, I'm easily pushed over by Lilo and Rapunzel. We played three more rounds after that, switching before each one, and I swear we get worse each time. I think I spend more time underwater than I do on the surface.

After losing 5-0, we end up calling it quits at the pool. We agree to meet up in the lobby to grab some lunch after we take a shower. There are some by the pool, but I make up some bullshit excuse about needing to use my own.

Elsa doesn't follow me, thankfully, which means I have a much-needed half an hour to myself.

I close my bathroom door and let out a sigh of relief that gradually turns into a groan, "Holy shit, keep it _together!_ What is wrong with you?!"

Part of me knows- no, _all _of me knows what's wrong. The touching, the scars, the onepiece, the hands...it's too familiar. I step into my shower and turn the dial to its coldest setting, my skin feels like it's on fire and my heart is pounding. "_Stop it," _I say sharply to myself, "Stop. It."

But I'm not listening, even after the freezing water hits my skin. It's not enough, all I can think about is my hands on Elsa's thighs, and her hands squeezing _my _thighs. All I can think about is how familiar it felt, how _good _it felt. Hands, legs, skin on skin, Elsa's half-naked body scars and all.

And next thing I know, my hand is traveling down my own body, with a mind of its own. Lower and lower until it gets to the place it needs to be the most.

It's good, but I hate it. It's needed, but so goddamn wrong. I hate it even more as more memories come to me, intimate and far-off memories that are so fucking strong that it gets me closer in record time.

And I break, thinking about the first time. And then the best time. And then the last time.

"Fuck..._fuck!"_


	25. Day 143

**Day One Hundred and Forty-Three: It's Not Unusual**

So I'm attracted to Elsa again, big deal.

I mean come on. She's pretty and cute, and smart, and definitely the kinda girl you take to meet your parents, and hot, and she's got impossibly beautiful hair. And it's not like we broke up because she was a cheater or a scumbag…just a heartbreaker.

But yeah, it makes perfect sense that after like half a year of living together, I'd feel something for her again.

And it's not a big deal that I got myself off the other day thinking about her. And the day after that. And the day after that...

It's not a big deal. It's fine and perfectly natural. Perfectly fucking natural. Except, ugh, I _know _it's not.

Of all the girls that I had to get hung up on after Aurora, _why _did it have to be Elsa? Why couldn't it be anyone else? I would have been perfectly happy pining over, say, Rapunzel, and she's straight so I know nothing's ever gonna happen there. But I'd take that fate over this, I'd take anything over being into my ex-girlfriend again.

Elsa, just...fuck!

Elsa?!

Really?!

I've been ruminating (goddamn it, she taught me that word) on this for too long, in between shifts at work and one-sided awkwardness during movie nights. Which have become almost a nightly thing since that fated day at the pool.

I should have never said yes to the chicken fight.

And right now I'm currently in the thick of my shift at the diner. We just got through the lunch rush, so I know they won't need me for a few more minutes. This gives me some time to squeeze poor Wilhelm, and _not _think about Elsa. And that gradually evolves into squeezing poor Wilhelm and _solely _thinking about Elsa.

This otter has seen some better days, but damn if he doesn't help. Squeezing and deep breaths keep my heart from racing at the very least. And when I've dealt with a particularly shitty customer, I pretend I'm squeezing their stupid necks and popping their stupid heads.

"Hey Anna, I need you up front so I can take my break."

It helps with dealing with shitty managers too. "Surprised you learned my name," I mumble before putting Wilhelm back, checking over my black shirt and pants in the mirror, and tying my apron back on. "Thanks Nikki."

She's already on her phone and sitting on a countertop, blatantly refusing to acknowledge my existence.

I walk out of the kitchen, smiling and checking on the three tables that actually have people in them. They're all doing fine, and thankfully none of them hit on me this time.

An old guy does, however, tap at my wrist and tell me that I shouldn't have "ruined my beautiful skin by getting a tattoo." To which I replied with a polite laugh, and a middle finger behind my back.

I spend the rest of my shift washing dishes, bussing tables, and _not _thinking about Elsa. I'm putting away dishes as slowly as humanly possible when Karen calls out my name, "Your friend's here." She doesn't say anything else but that.

Friend could literally mean anyone since I bitch to all my friends about work. I finish loading the dishwasher, wipe my hands, and walk back to the front. It doesn't take a lot of searching to find her, sitting at the bar and tapping her fingers on the counter.

"Elsa?"

Her face perks up when she sees me like a puppy's ears when they hear their owner. And it's really fucking cute. "Anna! Hey!"

My feet moves the rest of me towards her, "What are you doing here?"

"Picking up some food," she replied. "You always talk so _highly _about this place, I figured it was time I tried it."

She's sporting a stupid, dumb, pretty grin on her face that tells me that she's being sarcastic. I play along, "Well don't expect me to let you use my employee discount."

I don't even have one.

"Don't worry, I already paid." She shows me her black card before putting it back in her wallet. And just the flash of her hands coming into my field of view sends my senses reeling.

Knowing what those hands could do to me, the same shit that my own hands have been doing to me lately. Wow that did _not _take long.

I have to cough loudly just to snap out of it, thankfully Elsa doesn't notice. "Your shift's almost over, right?" she continues.

I peek at the clock above her head and nod, "I'm off in like 45 minutes." I shouldn't be _that _surprised that she remembers my work schedule since I bitch about it so much, but it's still crazy how she remembers all this stuff. I used to find it weird and now I...damn it, I _also_ find it cute.

Does she know what I've been doing? Does she know what I've been thinking about? Could she hear me even in the shower? Could she sense me doing it even when she's at therapy? Goddamn this stupid, fucking, fast-beating heart.

"Sound good?"

I blink and shake my head so hard I can feel my degenerate brain rattle. "Wha- shit, I'm sorry I spaced out there for a second. Sounds what? What's good?"

Elsa frowns, which now feels like a punch to the gut, and I'm already crafting up a better apology for not listening. "Are you feeling okay?"

Oh. She's concerned. Not disappointed. Just concerned. Because I tuned out of our conversation. She's not upset. Cool. Cool cool cool.

"Yeah," I lie, "It's just the...air."

"...the air."

"Mmhmm. It's pretty grimey today."

Fuck, I just wanna grab her by her shoulders and kiss her like I'm about to sacrifice myself in battle.

"Grimey?"

"Yeah, haven't you noticed?"

Elsa stammers out noises that want to be words, and then tries again, "Okaaaay. Well, I was talking about this weekend and how we should go get a gift for Lilo's party."

I clear my throat, "Party? She invited you to a party?"

"Yeah, for her little brother. She invited the both of us, remember? It's next Sunday."

"When? Wait was it-"

"At the pool, yeah." I was gonna ask if it was during my stupid moment of weakness at the pool when all I could think of was her legs, but yeah sure. Just the pool in general works as an explanation too. "Anyway, he's turning ten, so I figured we could get him...I don't know what ten-year-old boys like but we should get him _something."_

I think I have some idea of what a ten-year-old boy would like for his birthday.

...ew, that is a weird thought.

And stop looking at Elsa's chest while you're thinking that! Okay but she's wearing a low-cut tank top so it's not like- "Uh, yeah! Y-yeah that sounds good, I can probably help you with that."

"Are you sure you're doing okay?" Elsa stops herself with a quick gasp. "Is it because I brought up Lilo? I'm so sorry, Anna. I said I don't want to date her, I would never do that to you."

My chest tightens more than the knot holding up my apron, "You wouldn't?"

"Of course not. I mean she's cute, but I don't have feelings for her. And to date one of your friends could hurt you, and I really don't wanna do _that _anymore."

I want to tell her that she wouldn't hurt me. I want to tell her that she shouldn't stop herself from doing shit because of me. I want to tell her that I don't wanna hurt her anymore either. I want to tell her more, but I don't get the chance to.

As I open my mouth to speak, my manager appears from behind me with a bag of food and slides it toward Elsa. Goddamn it, Nikki.

"Two cheeseburgers with fries, one with pickles and one without. Will you be needing anything else?" She asks with the most ingenuine, robotic smile I've ever seen.

Elsa shakes her head, "No that's it, thank you."

"My pleasure!" Karen says before, thankfully, leaving us alone again. Although I can already tell she's gonna chew me out later for something stupid like leaning on the bar counter.

I point to the large bag of food in front of Elsa. "You trying to bulk up for the fall or something?"

She giggles, "No, dummy, the other one's for you."

What?

"Uh, you...wh- huh? For me?"

"Mmhmm!" She replies excitedly. "Figured you might be hungry after work so I thought I'd get you some dinner."

"Elsa that's...gotta be like one of the top five nicest things anyone's ever done for me." And she even remembered that I hate pickles. I mean I'm assuming that the pickle-free burger is for me.

"Ah don't mention it. I felt like doing it, that's all."

"No seriously! I could..." Kiss you. "...hug you."

"Well how about I pencil you in for one hug when you get back," she says amused, oblivious to my almost catastrophic mistake. "I'll put your food in the oven so it doesn't get cold. See you in a bit, okay?"

"Okay!" Wow, settle down girl.

Elsa leaves the diner and, with the shamefulness of a thousand degenerates, I watch her jean-clad hips sway on her way out. Gah, why does she have to have such a nice everything?!

I've got it bad.

So, _so _bad.


	26. Day 146

**Day One Hundred and Forty-Six: Denial**

**A/N: Uhhhhhhh….**

**Ummm…..**

**Yeah…..**

**C/W: In which Anna does the two-finger tango, flicks the bean, digs for treasure, exorcises some internal demons...masturbates. Don't read with your parents around. You've been warned.**

* * *

...I'm doing it again.

I'm thinking about her, about us, on my bed. On her bed. One second I'm on top of her, doing everything that I know she loves. The next second she's on top me, doing things that I already know I'm going to love. Our bodies, our arms and legs, our hands and fingers, our tongues. And then I'm thinking about that one thing she does with her tongue and-

"_Fuck._"

Too loud. Too fucking loud, Anna.

It's 1 in the morning. Elsa should be asleep right now, but I can't bet on that, I need to be quieter goddamn it. I wish _I _could be asleep right now, but...thoughts. And feelings. And memories.

We were watching a movie earlier on my bed, and she accidentally touched my knee while reaching for the popcorn. That's all it fucking takes now, I guess. When she finally decided to call it a night, I couldn't. Not without getting rid of this stupid, warm, gross _feeling_.

And it wouldn't be so bad if it only took me like five minutes to get off, but I've been at this shit for half an hour now.

I think it's because a part of me is still denying these feelings and refusing to go completely over the edge. These feelings aren't true, I reason, it's just that we're always so close all the time and I only ever see her on a daily basis. I like girls, and Elsa's the closest girl around, ergo I like Elsa. Shit, no no no, I do not like Elsa. These aren't feelings, they can't be.

It's just...lust or something. Maybe I'm in heat like a fucking dog or whatever.

These are the thoughts in my head that are warring with the other ones.

The ones that remind me of Elsa's hand on my knee just a few hours ago, and wondering what it'd feel like to have those hands travel up me again. The ones that say that Elsa might still feel something for me. The ones that say I need to get a grip and tell her something, _anything_, about what I've been thinking.

Except even if I wanted to say anything, I can't without jeopardizing the money. Right, the $100,000 is why we're both here. It's why she's sleeping in a room just five feet away, and I'm not sleeping.

I want to sleep, but I can't. I'm here touching myself, clamping my teeth down onto my pillow, and thinking about Elsa like a fucking degenerate.

I try to fight it, and keep myself grounded while I struggle to find the spot that will help me get this over with, but my fight's pretty weak to begin with. I'm not sleepy, but I'm tired and my wrist is getting sore.

So I keep going, because I've already gone this far and I gotta...finish this. I imagine that it's not my hand, but hers. Elsa's soft, delicate hands working in and out of me with grace and care, knowing just what to do. Knowing where they need to go.

And damn if that doesn't push me closer than ever before.

"Ha…" I whimper, barely muffled by this damn pillow. Curse my obnoxiously vocal nature, the last thing I need is for Elsa to ask me tomorrow morning about what I was doing.

Although, knowing me, I'd probably take that sick opportunity to finally tell her what I've been feeling about her.

"Sh...gah," I moan, half out of pleasure and half out of anger. Damn these feelings, why did they have to come up _now_? Why did they have to come up at all?! Why couldn't I just be comfortable with how we were?

Come on, Anna.

Come on…

"_Come on, Anna…"_

Ah shit, that wasn't me. That was her, that was Elsa. Two years ago, one of the very last times we had sex. Gah, it was so passionate, heated, and _long _and near the end she's inside me and says that.

And I remember.

_I remember everything._

Finally, my hands find the right spot. My hands, not hers. Of course she's not really here, why would she be?

I come undone and it's...way more intense than I think it's going to be. They're like shockwaves that never end. I'm almost screaming into my pillow, giving up on keeping any sense of dignity in this moment as I just ride out what has to be one of the top five strongest orgasms of my fucking life.

And I did it to myself, which...I mean in any other circumstance I'll absolutely be proud of that.

But not right now, not after knowing what it took to get me here.

After I finally come down, I'm of course spent. Everything in my lower body feels like jello and my wrist is so cramped that I'm afraid it's gonna be stuck at this angle forever- man, would that be a fun thing to explain.

Any and all thoughts of Elsa on top of me drift away, and now it's just me trying to control my breath, staring up at my dark ceiling.

Alone and ashamed.

Once I steady my breathing, I take my hand out of my pants and sit up to do that dreaded walk of shame. My legs still refuse to cooperate with me, and I almost trip going to the bathroom. I don't bother turning on the lights because the brightness will hurt my eyes, and I really don't want to look at myself right now.

The amount of soap I use to wash my hands with could be used for an entire load of laundry, but it still doesn't rinse away the thoughts. I even change my pants for good measure.

I walk back to my bed and, just fucking great, there's a stain. I don't even bother changing the sheets, not right now, I just bundle them up and toss them in the direction of my hamper. And I flop back down onto my bed, where I'm greeted with a spit stain on my pillow.

Whatever.

If I'm grateful for anything after this night of "heated passion", it's that I'm finally both tired and sleepy. Maybe in the morning, these feelings will magically go away, and we can go on with the next two hundred something days like nothing ever happened. I mean...that's what's best, right?

Us being together can't happen again, it would fuck everything up. We'd lose the money, and these past few months would have been a waste. But then that'd only happen if she didn't feel the same way.

But why _would _she feel the same way? Because of our history? After everything I did to her, how can I expect there to be any mutual romantic feelings? Yeah, she still cares about me and knows that I'm at least _trying _to care about her, but if I think for one second that she likes me...I'd get too caught up in that.

So, to keep my feelings at bay and to keep the money, I have to assume she doesn't have feelings for me.

Which makes this whole thing easier, because then there's nothing to confess. From her, or from me. Because if she doesn't like me, then that's cool because I...don't...either. Fuck, it doesn't even sound convincing when I _think _it.

Whatever, this isn't a problem that can be solved tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or...hell, I don't even know.

I shut my eyes, bury my hands underneath my pillow to keep from doing any more stupid things, and I'm out like a light in five minutes.


	27. Day 152

**Day One Hundred and Fifty-Two: What A Party Looks Like**

A party at Lilo's place is the typical islander fare, and a birthday party is even more so. You've got loud music playing till 2 AM, extended family coming from all around the world, slightly inappropriate comments from everyone about your weight and relationship status, and enough food to feed a small army.

I've been to like four of them, Elsa's been to zero. Which means I have to make it my personal mission to make sure she's not caught off-guard and having a good time. And I take that responsibility seriously.

Especially since it means keeping her, and the killer sundress she's rocking, close to me at all times. And by killer, I mean…

"Holy shit."

"What?"

Awesome, I just said that out loud. I'm impressed Elsa even heard me past the blaring speakers in Lilo's backyard- this song is _so _old. I clear my throat, scrambling for an excuse, "This...party's bigger than I thought it would be. A little warm too."

She smiles and bumps me with her bare shoulder, "Aren't you glad I talked you into wearing a dress then, too?"

Not really.

Especially since she looks a hell of a lot better in a dress than I do. It's a lavender color with a floral patterned hem. And it's got that strapless...ness going on which shows off the fact that, yes, she has freckles too. And now I'm not the only one that knows they're there. Of course I can't say any of this to her.

I just look down at my green, plaid-patterned dress that makes me look like a picnic blanket and pout, "The straps make my shoulders itchy."

Elsa giggles, "That sounds like a personal problem." Well, it wouldn't be my only one.

Again, I'm surprised we can even have this conversation right now, I half-expected us to be thrust into the middle of the party crowd when we first got here. Or even tugged on by all the kids to go into the bounce house (which was actually kind of tempting, not gonna lie). But no, we found a couple of plastic chairs right away and are now nursing two half-empty cups of root beer.

My eyes keep traveling to her shoulders and to her collarbone and...lower. I'm filled with this urge to tell Elsa how good she looks, how much it kills me that she's finally showing some skin again, but I can't.

I mean that'd be too inappropriate, right? There's no way I could compliment her like that without it sounding like anything innocent.

Well, luckily I'm not alone with her for long. Or...unluckily, I don't know.

"There you guys are!"

Lilo walks over to us and flips around a plastic chair so she can sit leaning on its back. She's got on ripped jeans and a red blouse with a hibiscus outline in the corner. Completely used to this scene, her voice cuts through the frantic background noise. "Nani said you got here twenty minutes ago! Why didn't you come and find me?!"

"She said you'd come find _us_," I replied.

Lilo rolled her eyes, "Ugh, that little...look our usual spot got taken up by all the coolers so everyone's relocated to my room. Come on."

She sits up and I follow suit, Elsa looks understandably confused but does the same. "Aren't we gonna stay out here with all the guests?"

I cast Lilo a knowing glance, and she chuckles, "Do you _want _all my aunts and uncles to ask you why you're still single?"

"Oh…", Elsa bit her lip- which of fucking course made me lose my breath- and shook her head, "Yeah that doesn't like a...fun time."

With no further questions, we followed Lilo up to her room.

* * *

It's smaller than I remember it, but then that's probably because there's eight of us cramped in here and there are only like three chairs (four if you count the already occupied bed).

Rapunzel, Eugene, and Jane are here, along with two of Lilo's cousins. And now Elsa and I have joined the scene, as one of the cousins- I think his name is Rocky- leads a heated conversation. Complete with hand gestures and everything.

"Ah, now the party can officially start!" Rapunzel exclaims as she shimmies out of Eugene's arms, and steps around everyone else, to hug the both of us. "How _are_ you guys?"

"Oof, we're just fine. Suffocating, but other than that..." The giddy blonde is more leaning on us than anything, and Elsa and I both try to keep her from tipping over. It's like 3 PM and she's already tipsy. Man, when Rapunzel lets loose, she _really _lets loose.

She pulls away and gasps, "OMG, you guys are matching!" Yes, she literally said OMG. "That's so _cute_! I love you guys so much."

I look at Eugene, "How many has she had?"

He puts up two fingers with an apologetic smile.

She lets us go and heads back into the loving arms of her man, nuzzling right into his chest.

"Sorry bout that," Eugene says with a wave, "Told her to take it easy, but she had a rough day at work."

I groan, "Trust me, I know the feeling." I want to ask for a beer too, but then I remember the last time I got drunk and it puts me off on the idea.

"Well come now, close the door and sit down," Jane said, "Don't want the children finding us here."

Elsa and I find a spot in front of the foot of Lilo's bed, she's obviously much better at sitting on the floor while wearing a dress than I am. She's on her knees with her legs tucked under her butt, but in a way that looks oddly comfortable. More comfortable than the whole "legs to the side thing" that I'm doing. I miss my jeans.

"Been awhile, Anna," Rocky said while leaning forward, "And who's your friend?"

"Elsa," she replies with a neutral smile. "It's nice to meet you…?"

He gets an intrigued grin on his face and raises a very prominent eyebrow, "Well my friends call me Rocky. But you can call me later tonight." Everyone in the room collectively groans.

His sister Moana, sitting next to him, smacked him on the back of his head, "Do you _have _to hit on all of Lilo's friends? We talked about this."

"Hey don't hate the player, hate the game," Rocky replied while rubbing the back of his head.

Lilo sighed and put a hand on Elsa's shoulder, "Ignore my cousin. He was dropped as a baby."

Elsa giggles, unintentionally brushing up against me, sending tingles down to my fingers. _Wow_, this is not the time. "Aaaaanyway," I interject, "What were we talking about? Aside from Rocky's shitty excuse of a love life."

"Ha!" Rapunzel interjects like a giddy duck.

* * *

It's like this for a little while longer, just a bunch of shit-talking each other until someone pulled out a deck of cards so we could play Slaps. And just like any party at Lilo's house, we stayed to ourselves until Nani called us down to cut the cake.

It felt nice being around friends and just being out, but I couldn't help but keep glancing at Elsa to see how she was doing. I didn't have to do as much as I thought, because she was engaged, smiling and laughing, settling in quickly.

Maybe it helped that she already knew three people in the room. Maybe it helped that I was right next to her. Whatever the reason, she almost made me believe that everything was fine.

But I could see it sometimes with each glance over, especially as more time passed. Her smile was lowering bit by bit, her eyes looked more uncertain. It could have been just her getting tired, and I was intent on asking her once we got downstairs.

It's about 7 in the evening now, which meant the party for all the kids was winding down and the one for the adults was just beginning. All the rookies had left, taking their leftover food home and citing that they had work tomorrow or something, and all my friends were still here ready to tear shit up like we usually do.

But Elsa...I could see it. She wasn't up for that.

After we took our spots in the back of the kitchen, away from the immediate family and cake-cutting crowd, I finally had her to myself and was waiting for an opening. I found it when she closed her eyes for a little longer than a normal blink, and I nudged her with my shoulder, "Hey. You alright?"

Elsa shook her head as if she had just been woken up, "What? Oh, he-hey Anna, I- yeah I'm okay. Just...tired."

I give her a lopsided frown, "Not as fun as you thought it'd be?"

"No! Trust me, I've had a great time, I'm just tired. Yeah, tired. You know my head hurts and all. And it's a little warm in here."

Warm? The kitchen window's open and there's a draft, plus we're sitting right next to the fridge. Well maybe it's because there's a lot of people down here. Or she's more uncomfortable about this than she's leading on.

Elsa rubs the back of her neck, and even though I want to stay, I can't help but ask, "Do you wanna get out of here?"

She sighs, "No, I can't do that to you. You're having a good time too, right?"

"Well of course, but it's not like I'll never see my friends again if we leave," I look towards the bulk of the party where they've sat Stitch down in front of his obnoxiously large cake. His eyes are as wide as his smile, and his blue face paint looks completely natural on him. The ten birthday candles on the cake intrigue the (most likely) future pyromaniac.

No one's paying attention to us, I doubt anyone would notice if we left right now either. "Elsa, come on."

"I'm okay. I-I'm okay. I just gotta step outside for a little bit." Elsa walks towards the front door with a purpose, hand still on her neck.

I don't even hesitate, I follow her out when everyone starts singing "Happy Birthday", but not before shooting a quick text to Lilo that we had to leave.

She had maybe a fifteen-second headstart on me, so I'm not surprised when I don't see her right away. But there's no way she could have gone far. There's cars parked everywhere along Lilo's roundabout, and it's quiet outside save for the wind rustling the trees.

"Elsa?!" I shout. Wait, she probably went back to the car. What am I doing?

I head to where we parked it, and sure enough she's- oh no, this isn't good.

She's leaning on the car with her legs pressed tightly to her chest, heaving and shaking.

I rush to her side, ruining the bottom of my dress with grass and dirt. "Hey, what's going on? Elsa, talk to me." I put a hand on her back and she stiffens up, she's shaking harder than I thought.

Her breath hitches when I put my hand on her, but she doesn't make any other movements to acknowledge my existence. It's like she's trapped somewhere, still in her body but stuck in her mind. "Elsa, I-I need your help right now, okay? I need you to talk to me. What's wrong?"

I try to take one of her hands into mine, to try and show her that I'm not a figment of her imagination or anything, but they're clenched tight onto her legs. I pry her fingers from her right hand away. As soon as I can slip my fingers in between hers, she grasps them like a flytrap. Her grip is so tight that it hurts, but I know she needs this so all I do is wince and bite back a yelp.

Her breaths are short and quick, I'm afraid she's going to pass out. I want to do more, I have to do more, but I don't know what else to do other than this. And the helplessness I feel...I can't imagine what Elsa must be feeling right now.

And then finally I feel her shoulders loosen up just a little bit, and she leans on me. Her head is resting on my chest, my hand is clutched in hers, and her hair smells like pine needles. Not the thing to be thinking about right Anna, what the fuck is wrong with you?

"Elsa come on...talk to me." I start stroking her back, she doesn't say anything so I guess it's okay. Even though it feels smooth and familiar, I try to focus more on if it's helping her or not.

Finally, _finally_, she replies in a hushed, strained voice: "Anna?"

Her head's still buried, but at least I know she's conscious. I breathe out a sigh of relief, "Hey. Yeah, it's me. I'm right here."

Her breathing slows and her grip loosens on my hand, which helps _me _breathe a little easier now too. I think the worst is over, I _hope _the worst is over.

"Anna…" she says again, still quietly like it's hard to speak.

"It's okay," I say soothingly- or at least as soothing as I can, "You don't have to say anything. Just breathe. Just breathe, Elsa."

I don't know what I'm doing, but it seems to be working. She settles down even more as time passes, her breathing's quieter and her grip is pretty loose. Which actually does make me afraid that she _has _passed out, but when she rubs my hand with her thumb, I know she's still with me.

And now that I know she's okay- well, getting okay- my brain finally has time to fixate on all the...touching.

Her thumb is gently stroking my hand, her breath is tickling my chest, her hair is resting on my shoulder, and of course her dress is just low enough that I feel some of her bare back on my hand. And damn if this isn't driving me fucking crazy.

It's getting to the point where I'm thinking that I should sit her up so the thoughts in my brain can settle the fuck down, but she does that anyway. Which, of course, leaves me with a pang of disappointment.

She sniffles and looks at me, wiping a tear away from her eye. She looks tired, really tired. It's not a sleepy tired either, it's like all of the energy was sucked out of her. She lets out a long, close-eyed breath, and when she reopens her eyes a little bit of that "Elsa" spark is back.

"...sorry about that," she says softly.

I scoff, "Sorry? Elsa, what was that? Are you okay?"

She nods weakly, "Yeah. It was, uh...my anxiety just got really bad. That's all."

I'm still stroking her back. Should I stop? I mean she's not stopping me, but it looks like she's okay now? I...I guess I'll keep doing it. "Does this happen a lot?" I ask, partially just to shut my head up.

Elsa sniffles, "Uh...never this bad. At least not for a while. I haven't had an anxiety attack in a while, I mean."

"Anxiety attack? Is that what that was?"

"Yeah."

"Shit…" I say breathless, "Elsa, I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to go through that."

She gives me a weak smile, "It only happens when I'm feeling really overwhelmed. There were a lot of people at that party."

"Ugh, damn it I knew I shouldn't have-"

Fuck, her hand's on mine again.

"Anna, don't blame yourself," Elsa says with a serious expression that really just...gah it burns me up. "This isn't your fault, it's my anxiety. This happens, and sometimes it's bad, but most of the time it's manageable."

"Well is there anything I can do now that I know this happens? Seeing you made me feel so-"

"Helpless?"

"...yeah."

The smile is back, thank goodness. "I know the feeling. There's nothing you…could you just hold me?"

...did I hear that right? Fuck it, I do it anyway. I wrap my hand around her shoulders as she scooches in closer, and my other hand reaches over so I can hold her with both of them.

Her hands gently rest on my arm, and she sweetly says, "Thank you, Anna."

The bottom of my dress is fucking ruined by now, and so is hers probably. Anyone could leave the house at any point and see us. My heart's racing so fast that I'm afraid Elsa can hear it. And my knees are starting to hurt.

But none of that matters right now. Elsa asked me to hold her, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do.

Even when a thought pops into my head that I don't want to think about.

* * *

**A/N: I know that a chapter involving a ton of people in one crowded place seems like it's in bad taste right now- given the current world situation- but I wrote this weeks ago so that makes it okay.**


	28. Day 175

**Day One Hundred and Seventy-Five: The Next Right Thing**

"And how does that make you _feel_?"

I stop picking at my knee and scowl at Olaf, "What?"

He chuckles, "Nothing, I've just always wanted to say that. But I am happy that you and Elsa are doing well, seeing you two really brightens up my Sunday mornings."

We do? I've never heard of us brightening up anyone else's lives but our own. And I mean we're not exactly a couple of optimistic rays of sunshine. I'm more of an angsty volcano, and Elsa's more of a heat lamp. But like in a cute way? I don't know. "I mean I guess that's one way to describe us," I mutter.

"So no complaints?" he asks.

I try to keep a straight face, adamant to never tell Olaf any more than he needs to know, but my damn voice cracks while I try to speak, "N-no. No complaints." Hopefully, he doesn't notice.

"You hesitated." Damn it.

I shake my head, "It's nothing."

And then something changes about this twiggy, eternally cheerful supervisor. He straightens up a little, and he doesn't exactly glare at me, but his eyes narrow just enough to get my attention. And he speaks with severity in his voice, "Anna, you are legally obligated to tell me of any concerns and complaints with the room and/or your roommate."

"Holy sh…" I clear my throat, "Get off my ass, alright? It's not about the room or Elsa. It's about me."

Great job, Anna. You could have stopped yourself before saying that last part, but you didn't. My second slip-up in like five seconds, I blame Elsa being on my mind.

And they aren't my typical "Holy shit I like her again" sorta thoughts. They're different, more complicated.

She's only had one other anxiety attack since the party, but as far as I'm concerned, that's two too many.

Holding her still helps, apparently, and I'm not gonna pass up on the opportunity to do that. But with her looming book deadline, and something else I feel like she's not telling me, I just wish I could do something more for her.

I don't know what else I can do, though. Empathy isn't my strong suit, even if I do feel like I know her better than most people. I wish I had this magic wand that could help all of her problems go away.

But am I gonna tell Olaf any of this? Eh, probably not most of it.

When he looks at me with wide-eyed curiosity, I sigh, "I...wanna be a better roommate. For Elsa."

It looks like that definitely gets his attention. "Ooh, this _definitely _gets my attention. What's with the sudden change of heart?"

I scoff, "Change of heart? You make me sound like I'm an asshole to her."

Olaf scribbles something on his clipboard, now with three snowflake stickers on it, "Well I wouldn't use that word specifically."

"Gee, fuck you too then. Look, that's not even a complaint, so there's nothing I have to…" Another stupid question crosses my mind that I probably shouldn't ask. "Has Elsa ever mentioned her 'happy place'?"

As expected, Olaf doesn't spill. "That's not something I can disclose to you."

"Oh come on, you asked me about mine like four times." It's the gym, obviously. "I'm just curious, that's all. If it's someplace real, then maybe I could take her there to destress or whatever."

Olaf raises an eyebrow, "Are you wanting to do this as a friend? Or something else? Something more than that?"

I let out a scoff and lie, "Of _course _as a friend. It's not like I'm telling you to give me her deepest, darkest secrets, I just want to know how to help her relax. Besides, didn't you say that we're like your favorite couple that you've ever worked with or whatever?"

"There's a difference between me stating my opinion, and disclosing personal information that could aid or hinder your participation in this contest," Olaf explains.

"I don't want you to like rig the competition, I-I just...ugh." I flop back into my seat and blow back a strand of hair from my face. "Never mind…"

As if to rub salt in the wound, Olaf repeats, "I can't give you any information that can help or hinder you in this contest." The way he says this feels more apologetic than scolding, but it still fucking sucks.

I pout and clench the pillow a little bit tighter, guess it's back to the drawing board. "Whatever, are we done?"

"Almost." He ducks his head back into his clipboard and starts writing something. I'm used to appointments dragging from time to time, I guess this is just another one that'll be a bit longer than the others. Which sucks because I feel kinda stupid right now. And I just wanna go back into my room to think about how to be there for Elsa better than I am now.

Man, I can't believe that's actually a thing I can think about without vomiting.

Why did I have to have feelings for her again? Oh right, cause she's fucking perfect, thoughtful, beautiful, caring, warm, sexy, smart, and..._Elsa._

After a few seconds, Olaf begins to mumble something that I think is directed to me, but it has nothing to do with anything we talked about. "The beach is pretty nice this time of year," he says.

"What?" I say, even though I know he's talking to himself.

"Still bright and sunny outside, but the season's almost over so there won't be as many people anymore. Especially in the evening, when the waves get too high. Nice place to watch the sunset."

Watch the sunset? What the hell is he...wait.

"Sounds like a pretty peaceful way to spend a day," he says with a chuckle to himself. At least it sounds like it's to himself.

"Wait, is this...are you telling me-"

Olaf shoots his eyes back up at me with a big smile, "Oh hi! You're still here! We're all finished up now, so if you could call Elsa, I'd really appreciate it."

I blink, "Uh, wh- I...okay."

"Thaaaaaaank youuuuuu," he trails off as I walk towards Elsa's door, feeling different. Getting the answer I wanted in a way too complicated manner.

I do the knock, and Elsa answers the door in like two seconds. She's got on her pajama pants from last night with the cute little unicorns on the bottom, and a gray tank top. Her hair's in a neat ponytail. She has that warm, "thanks for getting me" smile on her lips.

Stupid, sexy, wonderful Elsa.

"Everything okay?"

Shit, was I staring again? Oh who am I kidding, I'm always staring. "Uh yeah. Why? Did I look not okay?"

Elsa giggles. "No, it's just that you kinda look like you're…" She twirls her finger around her eyes, "Sorta lost in thought. Wanna talk about it when I'm done?"

Hell no, that'd ruin the surprise. I shake my head and give her what I hope is a convincing smile. "Nah, I'm just thinking about something I gotta do later. Don't worry about it."

The way she purses her perfect lips tells me she's not fully convinced, "Mmhmm...well if you wanna talk about it, then we can. Okay?" Her smile grows and she puts a hand on my arm. She brushes her thumb across it as she effortlessly moves me out of the way.

Even when I'm back in my room, I can still fucking feel it- her thumb, her fingers, her hand And damn if I want more. I always want more.

Of course I want to help her, and do more than just hold her through her anxiety attacks. Of course I care about her as a person, and as a roommate, and as an ex-girlfriend, and because she's _Elsa_ and I can never stop caring about her. Of course I want to be there for her...but I want her too.

And at this point, I'd do anything to get her back.

Which means that I guess it's time to go to the beach.


	29. Day 188

**Day One Hundred and Eighty-Eight: The Beach Episode**

**A/N: You might be wondering why they'd go to the beach in November. Well...I'm wondering that same thing. **

**Counting is hard. **

**Time is a flat circle. **

* * *

Elsa rarely ever lets me drive her car. She claims it's because of her anxiety, and that she'd much rather be the one in the driver's seat. But I know it's more because she hates how I drive.

I like going fast.

So, when I told her that we were going on a trip without saying where, _and _also that I was gonna need her car, she was obviously iffy about it all. Even if she says that she's fine, and that she's more comfortable with me driving, the way she's clutching the overhead grip tells me otherwise.

After a particularly sharp left turn, she lets out a yelp, "Anna! Please be careful!"

"It was a yellow light!" I argued, "I had to do it."

"When did it turn yellow?"

I scan the mirrors, checking to see if any cops are behind us. The coast is pretty clear, and I pout at Elsa as we drive down our fairly open road, "Look, do you wanna get there on time or not?"

"I want to get there alive! And where are we going? You haven't told me _anything, _Anna." She might sound annoyed, but I know that she's got the patient of a saint. And I told her this was a good surprise, so the look on her face- when I glance at it before focusing back on the road like a good driver- is more intrigued than frustrated.

Though I probably shouldn't push it, I tell myself as I pat the top of her head, "We're almost there, don't worry your pretty, little head."

As you can tell, I'm also getting bolder in my touches and comments. But that's mainly because, well, so is Elsa. I mean maybe I'm just looking too much into it due to the resurgence of my big-ass lesbian crush on her, but she's definitely more touchy than before.

She gives me quick hugs before work, leans on me while we're watching movies, texts me dumb shit throughout the day even if we're like five feet apart. Gosh, you help a girl through one anxiety attack…

Don't get me wrong, it's cute and I love it, and maybe I should be content with what we are right now.

But damn it, I want more.

I want _her_.

Elsa pouts and retouches her little hair swoop, and adjusts her blindfold- oh yeah, I made her wear a blindfold too, so as to not ruin the surprise. "Annaaaaaaa," she whined.

"Whaaaaaat?"

"...it's itchy."

There's, finally, a road sign up ahead that says "_Veroa Beach- 5 Miles"_. I smile and merge into the right lane, "You can take it off soon. Or, you know, just stick a finger in there and scratch your eye."

She snorts, it's adorable. The drive from then on consists of her guessing where we're going, sensing that me slowing down must mean we're almost there. "I mean, you could've at least gotten a more comfortable blindfold."

"I wasn't about to spend more than five dollars on something I was only gonna use once." Probably. Hopefully? I don't know, I can't see into the future.

A couple more turns, and the final stretch towards the pier is finally in sight. I say this a lot, but it really is one of the best views in the city. Slanted houses packed like books in a bookcase line the left side, niche stores like a taffy shop and a boogie board rental are on the right side. Imported palm trees are placed along the street divider, swaying from the autumn breeze. And at the end of the line, the sturdy, wooden pier extends along the horizon.

When the sun sets, it lines up perfectly with the end of the pier.

Knowing she'd kill me if I didn't let her see this view, I finally tell Elsa, "Okay, you can take it off now."

"Really?"

"Yes, hurry up! You'll miss it!"

"Ah! Okay okay!" She takes off her blindfold with the tact and grace of a blind monkey and rubs her eyes to see more clearly. She gasps, "Wait, are we…"

I nod.

And she lets out the most uncharacteristic, giddy squeal I've ever heard.

* * *

The best part about going to Veroa Beach is that we've been here so many times, that planning out what to do is a non-factor. Which puts less pressure on me, because planning this day out would have skated too close to date territory. And the last thing I'd want to do is let Elsa think I have feelings for her.

That'd be stupid. Why would I want that?

We walk along the sand-scattered sidewalks, exiting our first destination: a saltwater taffy shop. Elsa has this weird obsession with the stuff, which never made sense to me and still doesn't. It tastes like really thick chalk, and gets stuck in my teeth. But she loves it, and that's all that matters.

She always gets the blue and white ones too, as per her aesthetic, and she unwraps one of the blue cubes and chews on it. "Muh fuh?" she asks while holding the bag out to me. I talk with my mouth full too, so I'm not a prude about it, but Elsa typically doesn't do that because she has this silly thing called "manners".

So, her throwing manners out the window already tells me that she's feeling pretty carefree. The beach is having a faster effect on her than I thought.

I shake my head, "Come on Elsa, you know me."

Elsa swallows, "I know, just thought today was finally the day. That's all."

That, of course, piques my interest. "Any reason you think that?"

"Is there any reason you suddenly wanted to go to Veroa Beach in November?" Elsa retorts, and I should have seen that coming.

Luckily I did, and I came up with a few handy excuses. The first one being: "I wanted funnel cake."

At the end of the boardwalk, aside from a gorgeous view of the sunset, was a small amusement park with food, games, and a Ferris wheel shaped like a big circle. One of the food vendors sold this amazing deep-fried cake batter with powdered sugar and topped with strawberries. It is one of my all-time favorite foods, and I would have it for every meal for the rest of my life if I wanted to die from heart failure in two weeks.

Elsa knows very well how much I love those fried fuckeries, and also knows that I will spontaneously drive to Veroa Beach for them no matter what time it is.

She smiles and shakes her head, "You and your funnel cake addiction."

"It's only an addiction if it's bad for you."

Elsa looked at me puzzled and said, "That's definitely not true." before indulging in her taffy addiction.

My perfectly crafted lie would work better if we were actually going _to _the boardwalk instead of away from it, but we're not. Yet. It'd also help if I wasn't so conscious about how much I wanted Elsa to like this trip.

"But I mean...just so I know, do you like being here? Is it nice being back in Veroa?"

Elsa sighed, "Anna, I thought we got past feeling awkward about going to our previous date spots."

"Ugh, _not _what I meant." Although, now that she mentions it, it _doesn't _feel awkward going to places with her anymore. I mean right now it does because I'm trying stupidly hard not to think of this _as _a date, but Elsa doesn't need to know that. That's a personal problem. "I'm just wondering if you like being back here."

"You know I love going to the beach," she replies with a calm smile. "Especially Veroa. Lotta good memories."

"Yeah. Remember that time we tried planning a picnic out here?"

"And then those kids stole our sandwiches?"

"And the parents got mad at _us_ because we didn't tell their kids one of the sandwiches had tomato?"

Elsa giggled, "I honestly thought you were gonna get in a fight with the mom."

I scoff, "Fucking Karen…"

"Buuuut, if our picnic was never ruined, I would have never found out how much I loved saltwater taffy." Elsa picks up another piece for emphasis and points it at me. " _And _we never would have found our spot."

"Can we still call it that?" Goddamn it, Anna. That sounds like you're trying to bring up old shit again.

But Elsa surprises me, like always, when she just shrugs and says, "I have no problems calling it that if you don't."

I don't know what that means. I mean that could mean anything but I'm not sure what that means to _me_, let alone what it means to Elsa. Maybe it means that she's secretly flirting with me and I should respond the same way, or maybe she means that in a more neutral, "everything's okay between us" kind of way. In which case, I shouldn't say anything that'd mean anything too...meaningful.

Do you know what I mean?

Because I fucking don't.

I push all of those dumb thoughts aside as I steal one of Elsa's taffy pieces and say, "No problems here."

* * *

Another thing: I didn't want her to over-prepare for the beach, so I just told her to wear something warm and comfy. Apparently, she took that to mean "wear the cutest denim shorts and dorkiest shirt you have".

The denim's got those intentional fadings and tears and go down to her mid-thigh. She's gotten so much more confident showing off her legs, and I'm happy (in more ways than one). Her shirt is two sizes too big, and she's tied the bottom of it into a knot around her hips. It's got a picture of a cow on it with a caption that says, "MOO-D".

In comparison, I'm wearing unripped jeans, a thick cotton shirt, and my birthday leather jacket. Because it's fucking November, and I actually get cold.

Elsa's walking across a stone bench, hands outstretched as if she's on a tightrope. Going here was definitely a good idea, I haven't seen her this relaxed in a very long time. While the memory of her anxiety attack is still fresh, it's being gradually pushed away by this. By watching her use my shoulder to brace herself as she steps off the bench.

We've finally made it to "our spot", one of the very few empty areas of the beach when we went on our picnic- because we made the dumb mistake of going to the beach on a weekend in the summer.

It's too far from the shore, a little too close to the street, and one time I found a _used _condom in the sand, but it's our spot. And we make do.

Elsa takes off her shoes and socks before sitting gingerly on the sand, I sit cross-legged and keep my shoes on in case I need to kick anybody. "Sure wish I wore my sandals today," she said.

I give her a sheepish smile, "Sorry. I wanted to keep it a surprise."

"No, I'm glad you did. I like being surprised, as long as it's a good one."

"That's good. Although, you know we're just gonna do the same thing we always do whenever we're here."

"I don't mind that a single bit, every time we come here it's always good." Why does she keep saying such cute shit like this? "But I am surprised, I've been thinking of going here for a while- possibly even alone- and then this happened."

I shrug and give her a bit of the truth, "You've been stressed out a lot lately, and I wanted to help. I wanted to do something besides holding you." Even though I wouldn't mind doing that more.

She giggles, "Sorry I'm so touchy-feely."

I'm about to protest her apologizing again, but then I pick up that that's supposed to be a joke. I think, right now my mind's too busy pulling me back to my wanting to touch her. Appropriately.

"But I am grateful," Elsa continues. "You've been an amazing help."

Ugh, damn it I really hope I'm not blushing. Somehow she's the only one that ever _knows _when I'm blushing and when we're this close it'll be so easy to tell. I need to get us back on track, we don't just sit on our spot to get all sappy and emotional.

I point to a person off in the distance, a guy in cargo pants and no shirt waving around a metal detector, "So that guy, what's his story?"

Elsa purses her lips and makes a humming noise. One of our favorite things to do here is people watch. I would always point at a random person on the beach and ask Elsa to figure out a whole life story for them. It's cute and entertaining, and Elsa loves doing it because it exercises her writer muscles or whatever.

"Got it," she exclaims. "His name's Jared, age thirty-four. He grew up in a very small, conservative town where your career options were either a farmer or a policeman. Fed up with it all, he saved up enough money to rent an RV and travel the world with it. Arendelle's his next pit stop, he makes money selling whatever he can find on the beach. One day, when curiosity gets the best of him, he'll go back home and see just how much it's grown without him. Or maybe it was bigger than he thought, it was just his dreams that were too small."

I nod, "Very impressive. I especially like how you wrapped it all up in a very depressing bow." I scan the beach for another victim, finally pointing at a young couple kissing underneath the boardwalk. "How about those two?"

Elsa scoffs, "Too easy. That's a textbook summer fling."

"In November?"

"Hey let me finish!" Elsa shimmies a little bit as if to reset her momentum. "The girl's name is Emma, the boy's name is...let's say Killian. The boy goes to a school thousands of miles away, and his family only comes here during the holidays. One day, he meets Emma out here on the beach over the summer and they hit it off and spark that young love, summer romance kind of thing. They both agree to not do long-distance, until the last day that Killian's here where Emma changes her mind and wants to be with him, despite the odds. Unfortunately, he leaves before that can happen. A couple of years later, though, Killian returns and they pick up exactly where they left off. On the beach, where it all started."

"God_damn _Elsa, you are way too good at this," I say.

She beams at me, "I know, right? It's almost like I write stories for a living."

I groan, "Your sarcasm's too good. You're hanging out with me too much."

She lightly smacks my arm and gasps, "No I'm not! Don't say that!"

* * *

By the end of the day, I feel satisfied for two reasons.

One, I finally got my funnel cake and it was, obviously, delicious. And two, I timed the day perfectly so we'd be at the end of the boardwalk during sunset.

We're not alone, though, because of course everyone at the beach had the same idea, but we have a spot to ourselves that we've been to countless times. Right on the side of the tent where you play that game with the bottles and baseballs. Semi-away from everybody, but still with a good view of the ocean.

And Elsa loves the ocean.

She lets out a sigh, "Perfect." She's sitting calmly, cross-legged right next to me.

It'd be perfect for me too if my butt wasn't freezing. But again, today isn't about me.

The waves are higher and louder, barely starting to dissipate when they hit the wooden supports. The last rays of sunlight give the sky an orange glow, and the wind's picked up significantly. We should leave now before the traffic gets any worse, but of course neither of us do.

It's silent for a moment, I don't have anything else I wanna say right now- keeping my burning confession to myself because it'd fuck things up if I didn't. But then she nudges my shoulder with her arm to get my attention. "What's up?" I ask.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you, it just keeps slipping my mind."

"Shoot."

Elsa takes a second to smile at me before looking back at the sunset, soaking in every bit of it. "Why do you want to win this competition?"

The way she asks this catches me by surprise. I might be looking too much into it, but I think she's confident that we're gonna make it to the end.

But her question's a hard one. Half a year later and it's still hard for me to admit why exactly I emailed her that day instead of going about my business, jumping to another shitty job and shittier apartment.

Here goes nothing.

"My dad cut me off. Completely."

Whatever curiosity she had on her face, and the confidence that I thought I saw, dissolves faster than the waves, "O...oh. Anna, I'm so sorry."

I shrug, "Yeah, well...he ended up siding with step-bitch after a really nasty fight we had. Didn't give me a warning or an ultimatum or anything, just one day I had money and then the next day I didn't. I've been on my own just trying to _live _ever since, and it's been exhausting. And defeating. _When _I get the money, I'm gonna save as much of it as I can, find a better place, and get a better job. Make a better life, you know?"

Elsa's frown is sympathetic, and the next thing I know she's putting her arm around me and giving me one of those awkward looking side-hugs. I let it happen, of course I do. It's nice being held by her for a change, I'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

And she doesn't even have to say anything, I don't expect her to. This is enough, and I know that she knows that. But to keep from dwelling on my sad existence, I ask her the same thing, "Why do you want to win?"

"Well aside from giving some it to my parents, I think I finally wanna get out of Arendelle. At least on a vacation. The last time my family went outside the city I was still a baby, and I wanna see the world."

"See the world…" I repeat, as I gently remove myself from her arms so that my mind will stop hammering in unhelpful thoughts like kissing her. "That sounds nice too."

"Well then maybe you should do the same."

Or maybe I should go with you.

When Elsa's eyes don't widen, I realize that I succeeded in keeping that to myself. Which is good, I think I've finally gotten the hang of that. The thought of traveling the world with Elsa, having days like today every day, sounds like a dream.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh shit.

The evening glow illuminates Elsa's face just right, like a bronze-colored aura that strikes me harder than a semi-truck. "But I guess we're jumping the gun. We've still got half a year, right?" she says with that calm, sweet voice.

"Right…" I say with what's hopefully an innocent smile.

"And we've got this. We totally do." Elsa pats my knee, gives me a smile too.

Maybe a few months ago, a few days ago, hell even a minute ago I would have said that I could handle this next half of a year. But I'm not so sure anymore that we can.

No, I'm not sure if _I _can.

Because while I do have that overwhelming urge to lean in and kiss her, another thought is winning and drowning it out: I failed.

I, Anna Reinhart, have done the one thing I told myself was impossible, something I said I would never do, something that jeopardizes not just the contest but our relationship as a whole.

I've fallen in love with Elsa Stark again.


	30. Day 189

**Day One Hundred and Eighty-Nine: Sick Day**

_cough_

Ugh, that sounded horrible.

_Cough_

Come on Anna, you can do better than that.

_COUGH COUGH_

Ah, there it is. That's the kind of volume and...mucus quality I wanna hear. I have to make it sound like I'm hacking up a lung.

_Knock knocknock knock knock._

Okay, that wasn't even a cough. It is, however, the most adorable knock in the world. And it tells me I'm about to see the person I want to be around the least, _and _the most.

Elsa inches the door open, I try to sit but give up almost right away and roll onto my back. "Anna?" she says softly, "You awake?"

I grumble my response, putting a forearm across my eyes to keep the living room light out of my eyes. Oh, and the sunlight too. I feel Elsa place something on my nightstand- it smells like soup- and sit at the foot of my bed. "Olaf said he hopes you feel better soon," Elsa says. "Also something about eating ghost peppers to 'sweat out' the sickness."

I let out a pitiful _cough_, "Pass."

Elsa chuckles, "Yeah I told him you hate spicy food. How are you doing?"

"I've-" _Cough._ "-been better."

"Hmm, well I brought you some soup." Aha, I was right. Also, _sniffle_. "You should probably eat it while it's still hot, it'll help with your sinuses."

"Chicken noodle?"

"Yes."

"Extra chicken?"

"Of course."

"Mmkayyyyy, I'll get up," I say meekly.

"You want me to feed you?"

Hoo boy, absolutely not. The last thing I need right now is to have her do something that cute and intimate. Which is kinda pointless, since she does cute and intimate shit accidentally all the time. "It's okay, my arms still work."

I do an awkward shimmy to a sitting position, which requires me to remove my forearm from my face. Even in the depressing darkness of my room, she's still so goddamn pretty. The bowl is right next to me, spoon in the bowl and with a neatly-folded napkin. There's also a bottle of water and a bottle of ibuprofen.

I hate how much she cares, but I also love it. And I hate how much I love it.

And her.

Goddamn it.

I grab the bowl like an old lady with arthritis and bring a very chickeny spoonful to my lips. And of course it's delicious, because Elsa made it. Even though I know she just plopped it out of a can and let it simmer in a pot for a few minutes, it's...I mean it's her. It's Elsa.

Elsa looks at me while I'm eating, and normally it freaks me out when people do that. It still does even with Elsa, but at least I know she's just making sure I don't choke on a noodle.

"Is it good?" she asks.

I _sniffle_, "It's always good."

"I'm just making sure, the last thing I want you to do is choke on an uncooked noodle." Why does she get me so well? "And we're running low on ibuprofen, so I'll head to the store and get some. Maybe some Gatorade too. Do you need anything else?"

Yeah, I need this stupid contest to be over and for you to love me back. Preferably in that order.

I eat another spoonful of soup- holy shit, I'm already halfway done- and reply, "Tissues?"

She smiles and rubs my knee, "Absolutely."

You know, it's a little convenient that I get a cold right as I realize that I'm in love with Elsa again. It's a little too convenient, right? It'd be pretty pathetic if I faked a sickness to keep from seeing Elsa as much so that hopefully these feelings die down to a comfortable level, right? I couldn't _possibly _be that dumb, right?

Well, I'm not.

Sorta.

I'm halfway dumb.

I did actually get sick after our non-date at the beach, probably from sitting on wet wood on a windy day. I'm a very shitty actor, so fake-dying wouldn't have fooled Elsa at all.

But what she doesn't know is that I got better yesterday. And I'm milking the sickness for all it's worth so that I have time to figure out what the hell I should do with these feelings once and for all.

I've almost perfected the fake cough, have like half my wardrobe underneath this fucking blanket to warm me up, and looking tired and upset comes naturally to me. To the unassuming eye, I'm still dying. And Elsa has gorgeous, unassuming, icy blue eyes.

I need some time to figure out what to do about this. And plus...I like having her take care of me. It feels nice, okay? Fuck you.

You're just jealous that you don't have a cute blonde feeling your forehead and making sure you're bundled up and cooing whenever you sniffle.

Look I know this is wrong, which is why today will be the last day I do this. Tomorrow I'll miraculously get better and by then I'll hopefully have figured out what to do. But today she's making me soup and getting me aspirin.

And I love her for it, damn it.

I finish the rest of my soup while Elsa talks about therapy and her novel. Both are going pretty well, I've never seen her this relaxed before. It's such a nice contrast to the beginning of the year, and I never wanna go back to that time.

"I'm really proud of you," I say, sounding suspiciously healthy and less mucousy.

"Er, uh what? You are?" she says, getting caught mid-sentence. "How come?"

_Cough cough._

"Yeah that makes sense."

I roll my eyes, but since they're barely open anyway it doesn't even matter, "You're just so...calm now. And happy. I like when you're happy." Dial it back, girl.

Okay but Elsa seemed to really take that compliment to heart, because she's smiling and staring at her shoes. "Well, I-I've kinda had to work hard for that."

"I know, so I'm proud of-" I sneeze, and it's a real one. Well to be fair, all my sneezes are real since I can't fake them as well as my coughs. "-eugh. I'm proud of you. Seeing you smile and stuff, it's nice."

There's something that shifts in Elsa's demeanor. I can't tell if I offended her, triggered a bad memory, or made her really flustered, but _something _happens. Her smile drops a little bit, I wouldn't have even noticed it in my dark room had I not been creepily eyeing her this whole time. She stops rubbing my knee which my lower body hates, but my brain is semi-relieved about.

I wanna ask her what's wrong this time, but she straightens up and pats my knee one more time before getting up. "I'll be back in a little bit to get your bowl. Just get some more rest, okay?"

"O-okay." I say, not knowing what else I can do in my "deathly ill" form.

And then she leaves just like that, leaving me somehow feeling shittier than before. Was it something I said? Was it something I _didn't_ say? Could she tell I wasn't actually sick?

I finish my soup, silent and uncertain. When I get "better", I'll think of another way to hide my feelings from Elsa without hurting her anymore. I'll find out some way to survive this next half a year.

_cough_

* * *

**A/N: Don't worry, Anna's gonna be fine. It's just a cold. She'll recover by the next chapter. I'm not that twisted.**

**...but man, wouldn't that be a horrible plot twist?**


	31. Day 190

**Day One Hundred and Ninety: All Falls Down**

**A/N: Heeeeey, so I may have miscounted my days. If you could just forget how to do math for a minute and just...accept the timeline as is, that would be great. Thaaaank youuuu.**

* * *

One day, I'm finally gonna stop using my friends to fix my shit excuse for a love life. Today is not that day.

"Yes! I freaking knew it! Nani owes me $20."

"Lilo!"

"What?! You're saying you didn't bet on Anna falling for Elsa again?"

"Of course not! I...okay, so Eugene and I didn't bet _money_, per se."

"Guys! Really?!" I say exasperated. "Can we focus here?"

My two wonderful, loyal, caring friends turned back to me. I think I'm less upset that they were betting on me and more upset that they didn't let me place my own. Lilo made a zipper motion across her lips and Rapunzel gave me a sheepish grin, "Sorry Anna, I know this isn't an ideal situation for you _or _Elsa."

"No, it really isn't." I braced my head in my hands, rubbing my temples with my fingers. We're back at the steakhouse where that cute waitress gave me her number (I never remembered to call her). I can't even focus on any of the waitresses today, or the delicious steak in front of me. "Part of me kinda wants to go back to the days when she could barely talk to each other."

"Really?" Rapunzel asked.

I look at her, helpless, "No! Of course not! But at least that was simple. I could handle not talking to her, I'd been doing a good job of that already."

"The petty jokes you used to make about her say otherwise," Lilo added, looking away while sipping her drink.

"Whose side are you on?" I ask her.

"Both of yours. I've always thought Elsa was the best girl you've ever dated."

"You're not supposed to..." I groan. "I can't fucking believe this happened, this is the _worst _thing that could have happened!"

"...is it?" Lilo asks.

I shoot her a confused look, "What are you talking about?"

She takes possibly the longest sip ever before answering, "Well I mean- _burp_\- why is it such a bad thing to live with someone you're in love with?"

"Because there's- ugh, there's a lot, Lilo. There are a lot of things that are bad about this."

Another sip, and an innocent eyebrow raise, "Like…?"

"Seriously? I…" I sigh, "How about us getting evicted and losing the money if our supervisor finds out? Or how about the fact that Elsa might not even like me back? Or, shit, how about the fact that I said 'fuck you' to her face _and_ slept with her ex-girlfriend?"

"Didn't she forgive you for all of that?"

"Yeah, she did."

"Then I don't see what the problem is," Lilo said neutrally.

"The problem is...is that...Rapunzel, help me out here, please. Rapunzel?"

The spaced-out blonde, fixated on the basket of dinner rolls at our table, blinks and shakes her head, "What? Oh sorry, Eugene challenged me to do this keto diet and I..._really _miss bread."

"Ick," Lilo responds. "I hate diets."

"Anyway, uh, I know this probably isn't what you want to hear, Anna, but Lilo's got a point."

"You're fired," I say with a frown.

Rapunzel puts her hands up in mock surrender, "Listen, I know how much you need the money, and it'd suck if you lost it in any way, but I really don't think this is as bad as you're making it out to be."

"And what makes you say that?"

I see her give a quick glance to the bread before looking back at me, head propped on her hand. "Well, you either get back with her _and _stay in the hotel long enough to win the money. Or you get back with her but lose the money along the way. Or she doesn't feel the same way, but you stick it out long enough to win the money. Or...yeah, you lose both. But that's one crappy outcome compared to three where you at least get _one _thing that you wanted out of this."

I scoff, "Elsa is _not…" _I stop myself when I see that both my friends are giving me the straight-faced, "don't lie to me" look. I slump in my chair, staring down at my uneaten steak, "Fine, you guys have a point."

Lilo lets out another burp and says, "Elsa's forgiven you and clearly she still cares about you. So, again, what's the problem?"

This was not how this lunch was supposed to go, but then I don't know what I was expecting from it. Did I seriously think they were gonna be like, "Oh yeah, you should totally just pretend you hate her forever and shut her out until the last day where you finally confess your feelings!"

I mean if they _did _say that, then I'd have to reconsider the company that I keep.

They're both right, and I know they are. Maybe I knew that from the beginning, before I begged them to get lunch with me. The worst-case scenario is that Elsa lets me down gently and we live out the rest of the year "platonically". But I don't want that.

And fuck, now I know what the "problem" is.

I frown, "I don't know if I could handle it if she didn't feel the same way."

Lilo nods, Rapunzel gives me a sympathetic frown and says, "Do you think you'd leave the hotel if she didn't?"

"I don't wanna figure that out, at least not right now. I wanna do my best to hide these...fucking _feelings _before they get all crazy. Until I know for sure that I could handle whatever her answer would be."

"Well, maybe just try and give yourself a little more space," Rapunzel suggested. "Cut down on the movie nights, maybe pick up some more shifts at the diner, that kinda thing. The less time you spend with her alone, the more you can try and keep your feelings at bay. What do you think, Lilo?"

"I still think it's crazy that you don't just tell her how you feel," she says while swirling her drink around with her straw, "But if this is what it's gonna take to keep you sane, then I guess it's what you gotta do."

Finally, some much-needed perspective. It doesn't solve this whole issue, but it at least gives me a breath of fresh air for the time being. "Thanks guys," I say, finally ready to carve into my steak. "I think I can do this now."

* * *

"I can't do this right now."

Elsa gets off my bed, but doesn't take any steps toward me. "I-I'm sorry? Anna, all I asked is if you wanted to spend Thanksgiving with me."

Gah, don't say it _again. _It was hard enough finding her sitting on my bed- after I'd been sick!- and now she's asking me to spend a whole weekend with her alone?! Okay, so technically her family's gonna be there too, but still…

I _know _her parents only have one guest room.

"Yeah I know, and it's a hard question for me to answer, so I can't answer it right now."

"But...why?"

"Why?! Are you-" No, stop it. This isn't Elsa's fault, you can't get mad at her. "I'm sorry, it's complicated. I just don't wanna get into it."

"Is this about me?"

My hand, behind my back, tightens on my doorknob. "Uh what?"

"Did I do something to offend you, Anna? Did I say something?"

Holy shit, it took like two minutes for Elsa to start blaming herself over my bullshit. That's gotta be a record. I need to get her out of my room, give myself some space. And most importantly, I need her out of here so I don't hurt her feelings anymore. "You didn't say anything wrong, Elsa. But you probably shouldn't be in here anyway, I just got done with being sick."

She's not budging, of course she isn't. She's doing that really cute braid tugging thing where she tugs at the end of her braid, looking at me concerned, "Anna, you know you can tell me anything, right? If you don't want to come with me to Thanksgiving, that's fine. I...I just want to know why."

Why. She wants to know why.

Goddamn it Anna, just make something up. Say that you got invited to spend it with Lilo or something, or that you're taking an impromptu trip to the fucking Destiny Islands or something to get away from the cold. Just say _something _that won't hurt her any more than you already are.

"I can't be around you right now."

You are the dumbest person on the planet.

Elsa disguises the pain she feels with a sharp exhale, and mutters to the floor, "So I _did _do something…"

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, "Goddamn it, Anna."

'Could you tell me what I did, at least? Just so I know."

"Elsa, you- ugh, you didn't _do _anything. I just can't be around you right now, _that's all._" This needs to stop, I need to keep this conversation from going any deeper. The farther we dive, the easier it'll become to drown in this mess that I made. Me and my fucking feelings, my stupid heart, my choice to date the...best woman I've ever met.

"We were just fine before. What changed? Why can't you be around me anymore?"

"_Please_, Elsa...can you please just go?"

Great, now I'm begging. And if I didn't feel like shit before, the hurt and betrayal in Elsa's eyes definitely add a few more daggers into my gut. She nods meekly and walks past me and out my door. She smells like citrus.

I move out of her way and further into my room, giving _her _space too, and I start to think about backup plans. Anything I can do to not only apologize to Elsa again, but to refix our relationship-

"No."

...what?

I turn around, Elsa's out of my room but is still in front of my door. Her feet are planted firmly, but her upper body is unsure and scared, I think. It's like she _wanted _to let this go, but something possessed her to turn around first. And oh...oh no, she's got tears in her eyes. Tears that aren't even trying to hide, that drip down her cheeks and fill her eyes with pain. The worst kind of tears.

"Anna, please...just tell me what's wrong," she says with a shaky breath. "I can help, I can be _here _for you, please don't push me away!"

Fuck, now I gotta dive deeper.

"I don't _want _to push you away, Elsa, and I'm not trying to. I just need to right now because...because being around you is hard. Really fucking hard, and I need you to understand that."

"But I don't understand. Why is it so hard to be around me?"

Oh come on, please don't make me do this. Please don't make me dive deeper, Elsa.

"It's not hard to be around you, in fact, that's all I want to do. And that's the problem."

"That's a problem? Why is that a problem?"

"Because…" No, Anna, we had a plan. Don't fuck up the plan. Don't do this.

Don't do this.

Don't fucking do this.

"Because why?"

"_Because I'm in love with you, goddamn it!"_

Elsa's breath hitches, "What?"

And the world around us, the room, and any semblance of secrecy and feigned innocence crumbles. It all falls down with me into the murky waters of this grave fuck-up. And I'm in so deep that trying to swim up and through the debris would hurt us both.

So I turn my brain off, and dive deeper.

"Yeah, I said it. I fucking love you, okay? I didn't think it was possible when we moved into this stupid hotel, but then you- ugh, you were _you_! You showed me that you're still the person I fell in love with in the first place and so much more! And when I found out the breakup wasn't your fault, it was all that my damn heart needed to get those fucking feelings back again! But I _don't want them! _Not while we're still here, not while we're still doing this fucking contest, not when _I know _that I don't deserve your love or your affection or anything from you. Not after what _I've _done to _you! _And yet here I am, telling you what I shouldn't be telling you because I can't fucking hold it in anymore. I..._love _you, Elsa, so much that it hurts. So much that it scares the shit out of me. I'm in love with you, I...I'm in love with you."

And of course, Elsa doesn't say anything right away. Of course the silence between us is heart-wrenching. Of course it gives my mind time to finally resurface and let the tears fall, just like Elsa. Of course all I wanna do is reach out and wipe those tears on her cheeks with my thumb. Of course that makes me feel even more gross. I can't make out the reason for the shock on Elsa's face, I don't know what'll happen next between us.

And right now, I don't want to know.

Not when I see Elsa still crying, not when I see her lips gradually descend into a frown. I've fucked this up, I know I have.

I wipe my eyes on my sleeve and sniffle, "I don't expect an answer, actually I just wanna be left alone. I'm sorry for...everything." My voice breaks before the last word.

When I go to close my door, Elsa doesn't move but she doesn't stop me either. Just like two years ago, she lets me close it. But it feels different this time, not as hopeless but not very hopeful either. And when my door fully closes, I walk over and crumple onto my bed, and I let the sobs and sniffles out. And just like two years ago, all I'm thinking is...

Maybe I should have waited for an answer this time too.


	32. Day 196

**Day One Hundred and Ninety-Six: No Direction and All Alone**

Wilhelm's head implodes in my grip, the tear on his face has widened and covered his eye. It looks like a scar. I've never taken him out of my work locker before, it's a little jarring not to hear my manager bitching at me when I unclench. This time, instead of her, it's someone just as annoying.

"What's that?"

I let out a soft, exasperated breath. "It's an otter," I say to Olaf.

"Oh, I don't think I've seen that before," he replies curiously.

"That's cause it's new," I lied.

"Hmm...well it's cute. I like it!"

"Thanks…" Not like I needed your approval, but whatever. I know I shouldn't be shitting on Olaf like this, he's literally the only person I've seen in days since the latest "incident". But the physical embodiment of a sugar rush is the last person I wanna be around right now.

And the one person I _do _wanna be around must not want anything to do with me anymore. Goddamn stupid, Anna. So fucking stupid.

What happened to waiting, huh? What happened to keeping your distance? No, you just _had _to dive in and tell her. You couldn't wait just...uh…

"What week is this?"

"Week twenty-eight," Olaf replies without hesitation.

You couldn't wait just twenty-four more weeks? Ugh, I mean when you put it in those numbers, that _is _a really long time so I shouldn't blame you for being impatient, but I do. I definitely do. If you didn't have these fucking feelings come back in the first place, then we wouldn't be in this mess.

...I miss Elsa.

"Anna, I get the sense that you don't want to check in this week."

I scoff, "Really? What makes you say that?"

"Well you haven't answered any of my questions. And you look like you'd much rather be anywhere else. Can I ask about the sudden change in behavior?"

"No."

"Was it something that I said?"

"No." So I guess when I said I didn't want to talk about this, he just didn't listen. Great.

"Does this have anything to do with Elsa?"

"_No." _That was way too quick, Anna, and way too harsh. If Olaf doesn't think something's going on, then he's a bigger idiot than you are.

"Hmm…" he mumbles dauntingly. "Well, Elsa let me know that she wasn't going to be at check-in this week. She didn't say why, and I'm not going to ask if you know anything about that. I just want to remind you that missing two check-ins in a row will result in an automatic disqualification."

"I'll make sure to tell her," I say, trying to sound disinterested.

"Hopefully she's back by next week, I wanted to continue our conversation about water having memory."

I hope so too…

"What was that, Anna?"

Ugh, of course I said that out loud. I slowly tilt my head to look at him, "Nothing. Are we done now?"

Just say yes, Olaf. Just say that we're done so I can go back in my room and cry, or watch TV, or both. Probably both. Just say yes so I can stay here for one week longer before I'm pushed out and never get to see Elsa again. Just let me have this, Olaf.

Please.

Maybe he senses the pleading thoughts in my mind, or maybe the look of frustration I'm trying to convey looks more like pitiful sadness, because he nods. Good, that makes one thing that went right this week.

I walk to my room and turn the knob.

"Anna?" Olaf asks, because of course things can't go right just once.

This time, when I sigh, I don't try to hide it. "What is it?"

"Is...everything okay between you and Elsa?"

I clench both of my hands, choking the life out of Wilhelm and my doorknob. Of course things aren't okay between me and Elsa. I didn't even know she was gone until Olaf told me. I mean I had my suspicions when her room was eerily quiet and I never once saw her leave it, but who knows when she left. Or when she's coming back.

_If _she's coming back.

Right now, I don't know what feeling is stronger: how much I miss her, or how much I hate myself. Both feelings suck, and I probably shouldn't want to see her again this bad after fucking things up _again, _but that's all I want.

I want to see her, I want to be with her, I _want _her. Not in that way- okay, not just in that way.

I put my own feelings before her own and before the contest was even over. Hell, I don't even know whatever it is that she might feel about me. Which, considering she's not even at the fucking hotel, I don't think she feels the same way.

And why would she?

While she's been going to therapy and taking medication and learning how to be a better person, I've just been the same, shitty Anna. Doing the same, shitty Anna things to her, and saying the same, shitty Anna words. There's no way she loved me back, if she ever did.

But Olaf doesn't need to know about this, not when I want to live here for as long as I can before being pushed back into my same, shitty Anna life.

"Everything's the same," I tell him.

Which isn't technically a lie, but I wish it wasn't the truth either.

* * *

**A/N: Shortest chapter ever, I know. Don't worry, you only have to wait a week for a...slightly longer one. **


	33. Day 197

**Day One Hundred and Ninety-Seven: Fracture**

**A/N: Thank you to NamelessSaint for reminding me how long chapters should be. I'll remember you in my will.**

* * *

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

_THUMP_

Punch, punch, kick, repeat. Very simple, very formulaic, slightly barbaric, and absolutely what I need right now to get this pent-up frustration out of me. What's the point of living in a swanky hotel if all you do is stay in your room like a gremlin? I haven't even checked out the library yet. I mean I'm not going to, but it remains an option.

It's been a week and Elsa still isn't back. I've alternated between sadly accepting that she may never come back, to being angry at myself for many reasons, to just straight-up crying. Thankfully I'm just angry right now, because I don't really feel like crying at the gym.

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

_THUMP_

It's been a while since I've hit the punching bag, and it feels really good. It lets me know that there are still things that I _can _control, like my ability to hit things I don't like.

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

_THUMP_

Not that this poor, defenseless punching bag has ever done anything to me besides knocking me on my ass. Right now I'm picturing the one thing I despise more than anything: myself.

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

_THUMP_

And yeah I know it's unhealthy to think of anything on the bag, and thinking about yourself is even worse. But I tell myself that it's helping, because I need to do something to help me and this is the closest thing I can think of. Although it probably says a lot that I can hit harder and faster when I think about myself as the bag.

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

I should probably stop, but I don't want to.

_THUMP_

I think of it as punishment, as penance, for throwing everything away because I couldn't exhibit some self-control. Now Elsa's gone, and I'm losing everything again. It feels worse this time, knowing what I could have had if I hadn't gotten in my own way.

_THWACK_

_THWACK_

I'm a disgrace.

_THUMP_

I hate myself.

_THWACK_

I don't deserve to be loved by someone as amazing as Elsa.

_THWACK_

My step-mom was right about me.

_THUMP_

My dad was right about me.

_POP_

...shit.

* * *

Goddamn, I haven't worn a cast since I fell off the back of a moving car in high school. I forgot how itchy they were. Like I've never wanted to scratch my wrist so badly in my entire life.

After driving one-handed to an urgent care hospital to get my fuck-up checked out, it didn't take long for the doctor to diagnose me with a fractured wrist. And a common case of Dumbass Syndrome.

Well I guess it could be worse. I could have confessed my love to my ex-girlfriend in an emotional moment of weakness, causing me to jeopardize our entire relationship and my living situation.

Oh wait, that happened too, didn't it?

Well, at least this is pain that I can actually fix thanks to the painkillers that the doctor prescribed me. If only there were painkillers for your heart. Oh...wouldn't that just be alcohol?

Yikes, alright dial it back, Anna Reinhart.

You're used to this feeling, both of these feelings. Let's run down the list of things you can do to make yourself feel at least a little bit better.

Get blackout drunk with Kristoff? No. He's out of the country, and I just...don't wanna do that.

Eat a shit ton of ice cream? All we have is mint, and that reminds me of Elsa so I'm not doing that either.

Binge-watch? I was doing that already.

Thrust myself into my work? I've already picked up extra shifts, although I'm not sure how I'm gonna be able to work anymore.

Everything that's on my breakup checklist is either already being done, or things I want to try and avoid. So I know exactly what I need to do to get through this, and yet none of it is helping. Even after the _actual _breakup with Elsa, I could fool myself into thinking I was fine after the first week. This time I really can't.

What's changed? Why are things so different now? Why is it so hard for me to get over it this time?

I walk over to my bathroom mirror, wanting to get a different perspective on the cast. As I turn on the lights, I realize that maybe I should have just kept them off.

I look like shit.

Gosh, the bags under my eyes have bags. I haven't work make up in forever, and I haven't gone outside, so I look more pale and sickly than usual, and there's strands of hair sticking out the crown of my head.

Not to mention my nose is still red from when I cried on the drive back here.

I take a quick look at the cast, scowling at my fate for the next couple of weeks, and turn the lights back off. Showering with this thing on is a challenge I don't really feel like tackling right now. And since I fucked up my dominant hand, it's going to make a lot of things so much harder.

So I'm deciding not to do anything else but flop onto my bed. It's like 3 PM, too early for a nap and I'm not tired anyway. The sunlight's coming in just enough to give everything this gray, lifeless hue.

...this is stupid. Being alone is stupid.

I fish my phone out of my jeans, and dial the first person I can think of. She picks up after the third ring.

"_Hey, Anna! What's up?"_

I smile, even if I kinda don't feel like it. Rapunzel's perpetually cheery voice always works wonders. "Hey, um...being up here kinda sucks right now. Is there any chance I can stay at your place for a couple days."

"_Oh…"_ Fuck, I can already tell it's gonna be a no. _"I'm so sorry, but I'm not home this week. You know any other time I'd gladly let you stay over, though."_

I let out a defeated sigh, hoping she doesn't take it as me trying to guilt-trip her, "It's okay. I just thought I'd ask."

"_Is everything okay?"_

"Yeah! Of course, everything's fine, I…" Wait, why am I lying? This literally helps nobody, especially not me. "No, I'm not okay. I...I told Elsa. How I felt. I told her I'm in love with her."

"_Oh Anna…"_

I sigh, "And it went great! Totally! You can tell based on how I'm speaking and asking to stay over. It went..._awesome._"

"_What did she say?"_

"She, uh, she didn't actually say anything. I closed the door on her."

"_Anna!"_

"I know it was stupid, okay?! But I was scared that she was going to reject me or something, and I figured that not knowing the answer was better than knowing it. The only reason I even confessed was because I blurted it out in this stupid moment of weakness. Sh-she wanted me to...spend Thanksgiving with her."

"_And that somehow ended with you crying and asking to crash at my place?"_

"How did you know I was-"

"_Anna, you're my best friend. I can always tell_ _when you've been crying."_

...huh.

I don't know what catches me off-guard more: the fact that I apparently sound different after crying, or that I'm apparently Rapunzel's best friend. Are bitches even allowed to have best friends? Ugh, one problem at a time, Anna.

"_So is Elsa not there? Or do you just not want to be around her?"_

No sense in holding anything back now. "All I _want _is to be with her, and around her and everything. She hasn't been here for all week, and I don't know when she's coming back. _If _she's coming back."

"_I'm sure she will be soon."_

"How do you know that?"

"_Well it's clear to me that she at least cares about you a lot. Maybe you can't see it, but I definitely can. And with a confession like that, there's no way she could just leave you again. Especially after knowing what happened last time. Just have some faith, Anna, this is going to work out."_

"How…" I want to ask Rapunzel how I'm supposed to have faith in a time like this, but to be honest some part of me still does. A dumb part of me, but a part of me nonetheless. I guess it's one of the symptoms of Dumbass Syndrome.

All I've thought about, no matter how much I've denied it, was when Elsa would be back. I miss her more than anything, and even if I can only see her for a second before she moves out for good, that would be enough.

So, instead I say, "I really miss her, Rapunzel." And damn it, my voice is starting to break.

"_I know you do. Is there anything I can do right now to help?"_

Find a way to go back in time so I can hold Elsa as soon as I confess so that she doesn't leave? I'm not saying that I'm ready for her answer, but I'd be able to take it as long as I could hold her while I was drowning. Preferably in a way that kept her from drowning too, if that makes any sense. Or, you know, just come here so that I could lean on someone's shoulder and cry.

Gosh, when did I become so clingy and touch-starved? I blame Elsa.

No, I don't.

"Talking to me is enough for now, I think it's good that I got all that out of my head. I wasn't about to tell Olaf all of this, you know?"

"_Yeah. And hey when I get back, no matter what happens, you and I can hang out and you can crash at my place. Sounds good?"_

"Yeah," I say with a smile that almost reaches my eyes. "Sounds good."

"_Good. And I know I'm probably not the person you want to hear from this the _most_...but _I _love you, Anna. Okay? Just remember that. I care about you a lot, you're like family to me."_

Man, does _that _warm up my cold, dead heart. A tear rolls down my cheek, but at least I know that it's not an entirely sad one. I wipe my eyes preemptively with my sleeve, hitting the side of my head with my cast. "D-damn it, Rapunzel…"

"_Too cheesy?" _she replied with a giggle.

"Just a little bit."

"_But it helped, right?"_

I nod, "Just a little bit."

"_Heck yeah, it did. Look I gotta go, I'll talk to you later, okay?"_

I sniffle, "Mmkay."

"_Stay safe. I'll be back before you know it."_

"Rapunzel?"

"_Yeah?"_

I...what did I want to say? I got her attention, and I know I wanted to say something, but I can't remember what. Maybe it was something really emotional, but my brain couldn't comprehend or handle it after spilling my guts out on Elsa. Maybe it was something sarcastic, but my tears kept the thought from forming. In the end, I decide on: "Thank you. For being my best friend."

Rapunzel smiles brightly, I know she does. I can feel it. _"Don't mention it. Byeeeee."_

"Bye."

She hangs up, and I roll over onto my side. I'm still not in the mood to take a shower or even change, but at least my heart feels a little less heavy for now. Elsa's still not back, I'm hoping she comes back soon.

Maybe things will be good for us, maybe not.

I look at my cast once more, wondering how in the hell my life came to this point, and wondering whether my heart or my hand will heal first. Wow, okay, _that _was really cheesy, of course my hand's gonna heal first.

Even I'm not stupid enough to know that this heartbreak won't heal again.

But I have hope. And it's with that hope- and the help of the painkillers kicking in- that I drift off to sleep.


	34. Day 198

**Day One Hundred and Ninety-Eight: I Missed You**

_Knock KnockKnock Knock Knock_

Holy shit...she's back.

She's back!

I kick my blanket off of me and jump out of bed. And maybe I shouldn't run to the door so I don't seem too excited, but fuck it, I'm running. Needlessly running that short distance between my bed and the door, I place one hand on the wall to steady myself and another on the doorknob. I turn it...

And she's there. She's here.

"Elsa…" I say, not even trying to hide the smile on my face, the joy in my voice.

There's a rolling suitcase by her side, she's wearing a baggy hoodie, and I pretend that the frown on her face is because she looks like she hasn't slept in a week. "Hey…" she says softly, almost in a whisper.

"Where-" No, don't ask where she's been. Don't put her on the spot like that. "How have you been?"

She isn't smiling, hell she's not even looking at me. Her eyes are drifting towards her door. But if she wanted to be left alone or...something, why did she knock on my door first? "I've been better," she replies. "I'm sure you know how that feels."

"Yeah, I-I do." I try to let out a quick, nervous laugh but it comes out as this weird, pitiful breath that stops abruptly. As if the excitement of having her back has already deflated. Everything about this feels like I should brace for something bad, something I won't like. And if that's the case, then I should probably say...what should I say?

Do I apologize? Do I ask her how she feels? Do I ask if she's gonna leave for good? Do I even _have _to say anything?

No, I guess not. Because she's speaking again, and still not looking at me.

"Anna, I'm sorry for leaving. That was immature on my part."

"Immature? No, me blurting out my feelings to you was immature. You had to leave to get some distance from me, I get it." I glance at her suitcase, "That's...that's why you left, right?"

She doesn't respond, and I want to believe that she's too tired to say anything immediately. But I'm smart enough to know that whatever she came back for, I'm not going to like. The lights aren't on out here and it's dark outside (what time is it anyway?), so I can just barely make out how defeated she looks. Or guilty. But what would she feel guilty about?

Oh come on, Anna, you've seen this before.

The lack of eye contact, the tapping of her fingers on the handle of her suitcase, the sadness in her voice. She's feeling guilty for what she's about to do to you, she's guilty about having to let you down.

"Yeah, that's why I left," she replies, which fills me with a momentary shred of hope. "And I came back to get the rest of my stuff."

And just like that, the hope is gone, and my world starts to crumble beneath me again. But this time the water's going to be too rough to swim through, the debris is too big and cluttered to navigate against. She's leaving, for good. Fuck, I hate being right.

And yet even though I know it's over, I still try to fight.

"What do you mean? We've still got half a year left, remember? 24 weeks, that's _less _than half of a year. We can totally do this!" I smile, to show her how much confidence I have in my words. It's, of course, more fake than the smiles I give at work.

Elsa shakes her head, "No, Anna, we can't. Not anymore."

"Of course we can! It's not that hard, I mean we've already lived together this long."

And finally she looks at me, snaps her gaze from the floor and right into my eyes. I can feel the tension, the war, in those beautiful blues. I can feel the sadness, the six months lost that we can never get back again. I can feel the anger, justified and crippling, at least to me. But what I _can't _feel is love, and when she speaks, she solidifies that.

"Anna, I'm _not _in love with you."

My breath leaves me in a shallow, pitiful gasp. "What?" I ask, even though I heard her perfectly well.

"You told me, before I left, that you were in love with me. But I'm not, and I don't think we can ever move past that, so I need to leave. I'm packing up my stuff and leaving tonight, and telling Olaf tomorrow that I forfeit."

"Elsa…"

"You don't have to pack up tonight, you can go back to sleep or whatever. I'm sorry I got here so late, but this'll be the last time that you see me."

"No. Come on, it's okay that you don't love me. Th-that's...that's okay, but you don't have to do this."

"Yes. I do," Elsa argues.

"We can work past this!"

"Work past _what_?! You being in love with me?!" Oh no, she's raising her voice. Elsa never raises her voices, it's terrifying. It makes me feel weak and helpless, it makes me want to cry. "How long did you keep this from me anyway? Weeks? Months? Have you been in love with me all this time?"

That's an easy question, she's giving me something I can actually answer. I open my mouth, but my answer fades into a whimper. What if I _have _been in love with her this whole time? Maybe even after the breakup, I just never stopped. Despite what happened, maybe that love was dormant and hidden underneath my anger.

But if that's the case, then that means I failed this contest before it even started, and Elsa _should _leave. But I still don't want her to.

"Please stay, Elsa. I can work through this, trust me."

She scoffs and crosses her arms, "Work through your love for me? I don't think that's possible."

"Of course I can," I lie. "You just have to give me time. I don't want to hurt you, Elsa, I care about you. And I want you to stay." I don't know what comes over me, but I get this stupid idea in my head that reaching out for her, taking her hand, would help to calm this situation.

But Elsa sees my shaky hand moving, and steps back, placing one hand on her side and the other on her suitcase. And then she lays out my sins like the angel at the Pearly Gates. "You yelled at me, cursed me out on the first week we moved in, ditched me when all I wanted to do was spend time with you, and then had sex with the girl that caused me to have an emotional breakdown. I'm sorry, _which _part of that was you 'caring for me'? And why the hell do you think I'd love you back after all you've done?"

Again, I try to speak but nothing comes out. She's right, she's so fucking right.

And the worst part is that she's speaking with zero empathy right now. There's no sadness on her face and no tears pouring out like the ones that are going down _mine_. Tears that I hope have some effect, any effect, on her.

"Please…" I say weakly, my voice breaking. "Please don't leave me. Elsa please, _please _don't leave me."

Elsa shrugs, unfazed by my vulnerability, "I have to."

She turns to leave, walks to her door, and somehow I know that if I let her go back to her room, then I'm never going to see her again. So I act on a hope against all hope, a gamble that has an almost zero percent chance of paying off. I race over to her and embrace her from behind, wrapping my arms around her waist so she doesn't go anywhere.

"Please Elsa...please don't go," I beg. "Please don't leave me."

"Anna…"

"I know I've fucked up so many times, and I don't deserve you. I'm not asking for _you, _I just don't want you to leave. You can hate me all you want, you can say whatever, and do whatever you need to punish me for what I've done to you. Just don't _leave _me. Please, Elsa! Please…"

I sob uncontrollably onto her back, digging my nails into my arm so that I don't hurt her waist, and also so that he can't leave so easily. Not this time, please not this time. And I'm thinking, hoping, that her stillness means that I've gotten to her and that this gamble actually paid off.

But then, an all-too-familiar scene plays out. She gently grabs my wrist, peels my arms off her waist, and continues to walk to her room.

Without saying anything.

And the silence is enough to freeze me in place momentarily as I watch her turn the knob and walk inside.

"Elsa, wait-"

The door slams shut.

* * *

I'm startled awake when I hear something fall on my floor with a thud.

There's no one at the door, my room is darker than I remember, and my shirt is drenched in sweat. Gross.

And I'm alone...that was a dream. No, that was a nightmare. Elsa's still not here, but that doesn't mean she's gone for good either. I still have this stupid cast on, and I guess I should have known something was up when I didn't have it during the nightmare.

I take a moment to calm my breathing down to a functional level, my body is reeling from a scenario that felt so real. There are indents in my cast from my nails, and my eyes feel like they hurt from more than just waking up at...god, what time is it?

And what the hell dropped on the floor?

I roll over on my bed gingerly and see my phone resting face down, that must have been it. I reach for it first with my casted hand (because of course I already forgot about it) before grabbing it with my good hand, and look at the time.

_1:17 AM_

Holy shit, I was out for almost twelve hours. It was probably because of those damn pain meds. As much as they'll help with the throbbing reminder of my idiocy, I already hate them. I can't believe Elsa takes medication voluntarily, this is the worst.

Damn it...Elsa…

That nightmare, despite how traumatizing it was, just made me miss her more. She's gotta be back before Sunday, right? She has to be, she needs to be, _I _need her to come back.

I sit still for a moment, listening for any sounds coming from her room. Even though it's one in the morning, I can probably make out her shifting in her bed, or a cough, or something. Anything.

But there's nothing, she's still not back.

I stand up and peel my shirt off, tossing it into my laundry basket. I'm too awake to need any more sleep, but I do need a shower. Thankfully, this cast is waterproof thanks to the wonders of modern medicine.

When I get done with my very warm, very long shower, I...I don't know what I'm gonna do.

Maybe I'll start a fucking journal, maybe I'll take a night drive and get some tacos or something, or maybe I'll watch TV until I pass out again. Whatever I do, I hope it'll be enough to block out that nightmare. And I hope I won't have to see that nightmare come true.

I settle onto my bed for just a second to figure out what I want to do next, and that's when my body decides for me.

Tears begin to pour down my cheeks. I try to keep the rushing wave of sadness from crashing down too hard, but it's no use. I sob loudly and painfully, laying back on my bed and curling up into a pitiful ball.

* * *

**A/N: If it's any consolation, this chapter really hurt to write.**


	35. Day 199

**Day One Hundred and Ninety-Nine: I Missed You Too**

**A/N: So it's been a pretty long week, huh? I got many, many, _many _messages about the last chapter and I have to say thank you for that. If 34 chapters in, I can still get such a strong emotional response then I have to be doing _something _right. Thank you for sticking with me and this story, I love (almost) every one of your comments, follows, favorites, kudos, etc. I hope you'll continue to stick with me when the last chapter drops next week. **

**...I'm joking. **

**We're just past the halfway point. **

* * *

_Knock KnockKnock Knock Knock_

No.

No, this can't be happening again.

I kick my blanket off, sit up, and then stop myself. Reality check, quickly.

Okay...I'm in my pajamas, I still have this stupid cast on, I'm still a lonely bitch, and my phone is face-up on my nightstand. I grab it to check the time: _9:15 AM._

Wait shit, I don't even remember when I went to bed, but I do remember that I spent the whole day in it yesterday. And I only left it to take a shower and pay the pizza delivery guy.

Sure enough, there's a half-empty box on the other side of my bed. Gross, Anna.

But I could still be dreaming all this, and I have to make extra sure I'm not. So I do the most logical thing and pound on my fist. If I'm dreaming, this should definitely wake me up.

The thousand jolts of pain rattling along my forearm tell me that this is, in fact, not a dream.

"_Fuck!_" I say while doubling over and falling off my bed.

"Anna? Are you okay?" Elsa says from behind my door. Before I can even say that everything's fine and that I'm just being an idiot, the door opens and she's _here_. And when she runs over to me and gently places a hand on my cast, that's when it really sinks in.

Elsa's back, for real this time.

Meanwhile, I'm hissing through the pain and fighting back tears. Why didn't I just pinch myself?

"What did you do?!" she says.

"Ah nothing, just a stupid gym accident," I say. "It's only a fractured wrist, it's fine."

"Only?!" There's a heavy frown on her face and sadness in her eyes. She's legitimately worried about me, but I'm not sure why I'm surprised at that, she's always cared about me. Although I guess recent events would make me understand if she didn't anymore. "What did you do? Did you punch a brick wall or something?"

"Punching bag, hit it at a wrong angle or whatever." I smile to show her I'm fine, and also because no matter what happens after this, at least she's here again. Right next to me, technically holding my hand. And that makes me stupidly happy. "Welcome back, by the way."

And then the unexpected happens. She looks down with what I think is a blush on her cheeks and says softly, "Sorry...about leaving."

But why would she be blushing? Embarrassment? Shame? She really didn't do anything wrong. And why is _she _apologizing?

Either way, the time for casual conversation is over. And for multiple reasons, my heart starts beating faster. I already found out this isn't a dream, but it could still be a nightmare.

"Elsa, you have nothing to apologize for," I say, refusing to let her start this uncomfortable topic. "You needed your space. That's pretty understandable considering that I, you know, screamed a confession of love in your face and then shut the door on you. It was a lot to take in."

Good job, Anna. Just rip the bandaid off. Wish I could do the same for my cast.

She sighed and looked up at me again with a guilty expression. And yup, she's definitely blushing. "I just needed some space to think clearly. I figured that staying here would let my own thoughts and feelings get in the way. And I wouldn't be able to give you a clear response if I...if I knew you and I were just five feet apart."

Oh hey, I got the distance right.

Of course I'm curious to know what her response is, but of course I'm also afraid. "You know you don't _have _to have a response," I assure her. "We can forget that this happened and go back to, you know, just being...roommates." Even now, that word leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

Elsa shakes her head, "I _did _need to respond to that, Anna. Heavy stuff like this...we can't ignore them anymore. _I _can't ignore them anymore."

"Yeah, but I put you on the spot. I don't expect a response from you, Elsa, I-I'm just happy that you're back."

That's a risky thing to say right now, but it ends up getting her to smile- fuck yeah, Anna. "Th-thank you. I probably worried you a lot, huh? Especially since I didn't tell you how long you'd be gone."

"Did _you _even know how long you'd be gone?"

She shrugged, "Admittedly, no. I figured it'd at least be a week, but I didn't want to make any promises I couldn't keep."

"Well, you didn't miss much here. Aside from, you know, this." I raise my cast and wave at her with it.

"Remind me to sign it later," Elsa says. "A cast without signatures looks lonely."

"Oh yeah? Well, then it fits me perfectly."

Elsa's eyes widen, "Anna!"

"What?" I ask through my laughter.

"That was _not _funny, don't say that," she replies with a frown. "You're not lonely, you have friends and stuff."

And you? Hopefully? Please?

"You're right, I'm sorry. I just wanted to lighten the mood a little bit, you know?"

Elsa sighs, "Yeah, I know."

And my efforts to do that fall flat, because now there's a major, uncomfortable silence between us. She's looking at my cast, I'm looking at some area between her hair and the floor, and at some point we both look at each other again at the same time. I swear my life is like a fanfiction sometimes.

We smile at each other, both knowing that we have to get through this one last part. And I'm hoping that from what I know about how much she cares about me, the way she smiles at me, the way she doesn't hesitate to hold me too...I'm hoping her response is a good one.

This time she starts.

"Anna, I...I really have been thinking about what you said. All this time. I went back to my apartment so I could think. I wanted to get the words right, and talk to my therapist, and know that my response would be good. Perfect, even. I didn't want to leave anything out, and I didn't want to unintentionally lie in any way."

I smile, "You always do tend to think about your words more than I do."

She returns the smile and then looks away while biting her bottom lip. "And besides," she says in a quieter voice, "It's not like I haven't thought about us too."

Oh. Shit.

I swear my heart stops for a moment or skips a beat- whatever sounds more dramatic, "...you have?"

She shakes her head and lets out a nervous, breathy laugh, "Of course I have! Anna, it's- we're not strangers, we dated for _two years_. I've always cared about you at least, and even more so when we moved in together. And then when things started to finally be okay with us, I...it made me really happy. Cause it felt like I _had _you again, n-not like I own you or anything, it's just that like we- I mean I was able to see you, and you were able to see me-"

"Elsa," I interrupt, placing my good hand on her shoulder. "I get it. Trust me." It's not like her to ramble like this, honestly it's endearing.

"Good, because I had no idea where I was going with that," Elsa chuckled with the same amount of nervousness, maybe a little bit more.

"I...think you were going to tell me what your response was?" I smile, trying my best to hide my eagerness. My undeserved eagerness.

"Oh! Right! I was going to do that. Uh...Anna, y-you...I really care about you." Gosh, I hope my smile doesn't look too desperate and goofy. "But…"

Oh no.

Ah shit.

I always hated the "but".

Just do it, Elsa, rip off the bandaid. Hell, rip off my cast and beat me over the head with it. Just tell me that you're not in love with me and that you're only staying here for the kids- I mean, the money. God, I gotta stop watching bad soap operas.

I hope my frown doesn't look too desperate and defeated.

Elsa's frowning too, but with these racing thoughts in my head, I can't tell what it means. She reaches for something in the back pocket of her jeans. Oh, I really hope it's a gun and she's gonna kill me to spare me from my disappointment.

But no, it's an envelope. Addressed to me.

"I-I don't want to put you on the spot," she says hurriedly. "Just in case, you know, your feelings changed in the past eight days. Do you remember that letter my therapist wanted me to write?"

I strain to kick away the anxious thoughts in my mind as I try to grasp that certain memory. "Um, I guess it kind of rings a bell?"

This time her chuckle is noticeably more nervous, "I wouldn't blame you if you forgot, it was such a long time ago."

The memory snaps into the front of my mind, and I gasp, "You mean the one that I accidentally read?!"

"Yup, that's the one."

I groan, "Ah shit, I'm so sorry for that. Again. It was really stupid, and I shouldn't have barged into your room in the first place-"

"Hey, don't worry about it. As I said, it was a long time ago, and besides that was only the fifth draft. This is...I think number twelve. And the final one. Hopefully."

Twelve drafts for one letter? Wow, she must have really struggled with what she wanted to say. But...what does she want to say? What does she want to tell me? Is it good? Is it horrible? Does she want me to read it in front of her? What if it's one of those glitter bombs and a picture of her flipping me off?

Heh, that's still the best birthday present I ever sent to my step-mom.

"You don't have to read this right now," Elsa continues. "Or ever, honestly. I don't want you to feel pressured into doing anything with this. All I'm saying is that this letter says how I feel, and what I've wanted to tell you for...hell, for like three years now. But if your feelings changed, or you don't want things to be too uncomfortable for the next one hundred and sixty-six days we have here, then you don't have to read it. I'll understand either way, and I'll wait for you."

She'll wait for me? She'll...wait for me.

Fuck, that means it's my move.

I slowly took the letter from her and put it in my lap. The way my name is written on the envelope makes me think she took great care even in writing that. Three years of thoughts, feelings, and emotions make the paper feel heavier than it really is.

Wait, if she's scared of my feelings changing, does that mean she loves me back? Or maybe she thinks I hate her now, and this letter says she _doesn't _love me, which would theoretically make me hate her even more. Or maybe...or maybe...or maybe...

It's my move. This letter is make-or-break and it's just _sitting on my lap_, I've never felt something like this before.

And for the first time in forever: "I don't know what to say."

Elsa smiles sympathetically, "That's okay. I'll give you your space, I still need to unpack. But if you need anything, especially for your wrist, my door will be open."

She pats my cast gently and stands up, walking towards my also open door.

I can't read this yet, I have to wait for my heart to stop pounding first, but I also don't want her to leave. Not like this. I still love her, and I'm so happy she's back, but in case she doesn't feel the same love, then I can't say that. I need to say something, though.

"Elsa…"

She turns around, and I think I see a hint of eagerness in her eyes. But maybe that's just the medication tricking my mind, making me see what I want to see. Hell, this could _still _be a very lucid and fucked-up dream.

"Yeah?" she asks.

Come on, Anna. Even if this _is _a dream, don't let her leave without saying something. I put the letter on my nightstand and let out a soft sigh, "I missed you."

One second of suspenseful silence passes. And then she walks back to me, kneels back down, and wraps me up in a hug so warm and welcoming, that I almost start crying right then and there. I know this isn't a dream, she's really here, no dream could ever emulate just how good her touch feels.

And none of my dreams have her saying softly, sweetly, in response: "I missed you too."


	36. Day 204

**Day Two Hundred and Four: You Again**

There's nothing like the ambience of a coffee shop: the sharp hiss of the espresso machine, the rustic aesthetic, the super high tables with stools instead of chairs, the background music from some band only twelve people know. Ah…

I hate it.

But hey, I wanted a change of scenery. And Elsa and I watched a romantic comedy about two people meeting at a coffee shop so that annoying seed was already planted in my head. Which begs the question: after what happened, why are we even watching anything romantic anyway?

I've got on the baggiest hoodie I own, the bitchiest face I have, and the blackest coffee they sell. Hopefully, I'm giving off a strong enough vibe that says "don't approach me".

I need to think, and not just about the letter.

I told my boss about the wrist fracture, and said that it'd take a few weeks to recover. When he said I couldn't get any time off for it (even though my left hand, the one I use the most, is what got fucked), I quit right on the spot. Which means not only do I need to update my resume, but I also need to find another job.

Whatever, this is nothing new for me, I've got the whole unemployment process down.

It's different this time, though. I don't want to find another part-time gig, I don't want to work another dead-end job. I want something that'll stick, I want to work somewhere that doesn't make me hate myself. Shit, I think I actually want a career.

This isn't some big revelation, okay? I've thought about this before, especially once I moved out. But the feeling has never been this strong before.

Ever since I got that letter, things have changed. Not with Elsa- okay, so maybe with her too- but with me. I'm much more conscious about my future, I'm looking past tomorrow and actually _thinking _about my decisions. I think it's because whatever words that Elsa's written will change things between us. No matter what.

And if things change between us, then so will our living situation, so will the money situation, and of course there goes my future situation.

So, I need to know what _I'm _gonna do once I read this letter. And I do plan on reading Elsa's letter, I...I just don't know when. I'm terrified, okay? What if it's bad? What if it's worse than bad? What if she hates me? What if she's been dating someone else this whole time? What if she decided that she's straight?

...okay so the worries get a little bit irrational by the end, but they're there! They're there, and I hate it.

But on the other hand, what if it's the answer I've wanted? What if my future involves Elsa?

Fuck, that'd be amazing.

But I haven't found the guts to read it, I haven't even opened it yet. So then why did I fucking bring it with me to this stupid coffee shop?! It's just staring at me- _menacingly_\- propped up on the corner of my screen, blocking an obnoxious amount of it. I'm not gonna read it today, I've already decided that, but I have nowhere else to put it too.

Ugh, just focus on your resume, Anna Reinhart.

Education? That section's stayed untouched ever since I graduated high school. And I don't think a CPR class I took for a lifeguard position would count as "higher education".

Job Experience? That would take up an entire page, and _apparently _companies don't like it when your resume is more than one page long. Because _apparently_, hiring departments have the attention span of a goldfish. So I put down my last three "places of employment", which is when I realize that I don't last more than five months at a single job. Typical Anna, always dipping her toes in the pool and never diving in.

Skills? Ugh, I always hate this part. It's not that I don't think I have any productive, reputable skills, it's that I don't think I have _any _skills. At all.

This portion has been untouched since I was seventeen when I typed up my first resume. I know how to work a computer, I can multitask, I have..._decent _communication skills, and I "work well under pressure".

Aside from that, there's really nothing spectacular about me. Nothing that stands out. And I don't think being a bitch is a marketable skill. Maybe I should ask Elsa if I have any skills.

I check the clock above the baristas and let out a quiet sigh. Fifteen minutes, it only took fifteen minutes for me to start thinking about Elsa again. Although, to my credit, Elsa was all I could think about when she was gone. So to go from zero seconds to fifteen minutes is a nice step.

Except for the fact that I'm lying, I've been thinking about Elsa this whole time.

Hey it's not like I _want _to...okay of course I want to. The letter, her hand on my cast, the hug, the way she said that she missed me too, I can't think of anything else. It's like no matter where I look, she's just _there_.

The background music? Elsa probably knows the obscure indie band singing it. The little girl drinking hot chocolate next to her mom? She reminds me of kid Elsa from the photo albums her mom showed me. The cute, blonde barista named Ingrid? Now she's Elsa in a green apron and a ponytail. The blonde with tattoos that just walked in? Oh, you bet your ass that-

Shit, it's Aurora.

I hide my head behind my laptop so fast, I almost give myself a concussion. Thank goodness my hoodie was already covering my head. Why couldn't I just have unassuming brown hair like every other girl?

Just...pretend like you're asleep. Wait, what if one of the baristas kicks me out for hogging up space? Uh...shit I can't pretend to keep working on my resume either. Why is she here?!

I default to looking out the window, obscuring my face the best that I can. I don't see her motorcycle parked outside anywhere, and the lot isn't exactly full around this time of day. Maybe she got a ride here? But I don't see anyone idling in their car either.

Why is she here?!

Why am _I _here?!

In my attempt to be invisible, I can hear her conversation with the cashier because, well, what else would I be listening to? She's ordering some complicated frappuccino monstrosity that the cashier has no problem repeating. And here I thought she was also one of those black coffee types. Guess that goes to show how much I really knew about her. As if I needed that reminder...

"That'll be $7.54," the cashier says, which almost makes me snicker. Seven dollars for a glorified milkshake, holy shit.

It dawns on me that I'm going to have to stay in this increasingly uncomfortable position until Aurora leaves, which is ridiculous. I feel like I'm in high school again, hiding in some girl's closet half-naked while her mother lectures her about her grades.

Ugh, not the time Anna. I have to focus on hiding in plain sight. And eavesdropping. And fixing my resume. And wondering what the hell I'm supposed to do with my life. And _not _looking at the fucking letter.

I don't know, part of me _would _rather be back at high school when life wasn't this complicated.

Of course, most of me just wants to get out of here and head back to the hotel room. Am I gonna tell Elsa about this? Eh, I think it's best that I stop bringing up her ex-girlfriend. She already has to deal with _living _with one of them after all.

"Aurora?" the barista calls after like fifty hours.

"That's me," Aurora replies in a nauseatingly fake and cheery voice. "Thank you." Shit, she was closer to me than I thought. When I hear the door open and close, I peek over my laptop to make sure she's really gone.

The coast is clear.

I shove all my shit into my bag, banging my cast on one of the chairs in the process. I shut my eyes tight and suppress the pained scream that I want to let out. My coffee's only like half empty, but I throw it into the trash can anyway. The adrenaline from hiding from my ex will fuel me on the drive home.

* * *

With a much-needed sigh of relief, I slide my keycard into our lock and open the door. That was enough outside world for today.

Aaaaaand of course Elsa's in the kitchen.

"Hey!" she says before looking at me concerned. "Everything okay? You look a little...tense."

Oh gee, I wonder why. Wait no, that's right I can't be mad at her. I wouldn't have to worry about a letter if I didn't blurt my feelings out to her. I'm pretty much responsible for all this tension. I let out another, more exaggerated, sigh, and say, "I fucking hate coffee shops."

Elsa gives me a lopsided smile, "You know the hotel has a library, right?"

...fuck, I completely forgot. But even if I remembered, I probably wouldn't have gone to it anyway since I'd be too close to Elsa. In hindsight, though, I _should _have just gone to the stupid library.

Fucking Aurora.

"Yeah that probably would have been better," I admit.

Elsa nods and sips from her mug of what's probably hot chocolate, "Did anything happen?"

"No," I lie, "Just...stressing over my resume, that's all. And I'm pretty sure they put something in my coffee."

She giggles, "You know, I actually don't miss coffee."

"Well good, coffee ruins lives."

I go into my room for a second to toss my bag on my bed. For a second, I debate on closing my door and napping for the rest of the day to avoid any questions about the letter. But I decide against it. As much tension as there is between us right now, I don't think avoiding Elsa is the answer. Besides, the memory of her being gone for more than a week is still fresh in my mind and I can't...I don't want to lose her again.

No matter what, I love being around her.

I let out a groan as I exit my room, for all Elsa knows that's probably just another expression of my hatred for coffee shops. I sit next to her and bury my face in my arms like I tried to do when I was hiding from Aurora.

I feel a weird tingling sensation on my back, like something was hovering right over it. Was Elsa about to console me the same way she did when we were together? If that's the case, I wonder how much it pained her to stop herself.

"I can look over your resume if you want," she says. "It's been a while since I've written one, but I can at least make sure it makes sense."

I emerge from my arm nest, keeping my cast on the table and resting my head on my healthy hand. "I think that'd help out a lot, thanks."

She smiles, and for some reason I can tell it's a genuine one, "Good. I needed a break from proofreading anyway. My publisher's on my ass about this one specific chapter, he keeps sending me revision notes and stuff."

I snort, "What the...did Elsa Stark just swear?"

She gasps, "I've sworn before."

"Yeah like five years ago," I exaggerate. "Man, you must be _really _stressed out."

"Maybe a little bit…" Elsa says, pouting.

"Yeah, well join the club." And maybe it's because I've gotten a bit too comfortable in this conversation but I place my cast on her forearm, knowing that if it wasn't for this big, bulky thing I would be laying my hand on her wrist. We both freeze, I swear that I hear Elsa's breath get trapped in her chest. Or maybe I'm just hearing things.

It's Elsa that makes the next move. She places her hand over my cast and changes the subject, "How's the wrist?"

I go along, grateful that we don't have to trudge through something either of us want to talk about. "It's been better. Sometimes the pain will just flare up and that's a total bitch and a half, but other than that I'm just annoyed. I really want this thing off."

"Yeah...anything I can do to help?"

"You wanna give me _your _wrist?" I joke.

Elsa hisses, "Umm...unfortunately, I need both of them."

"Ugh, you suck."

"I know."

Wow, a big water balloon full of guilt just lands right on my head when she says that. "Not really," I reply, trying to backtrack.

"I know," Elsa replies unfazed, which somehow makes me feel more like an ass.

"You know I don't actually think that you-"

"Anna, it's okay. I know that you were joking."

"Oh. Okay, I just didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"You didn't hurt my feelings. We used to date, remember? I know when you're being serious or not."

"Right...right."

Right.

How did this happen? How did I get stuck in two situations on the same day where I'd much rather be anywhere else. And how did I cause them both?

Maybe now would be the best time to leave. I could tell Elsa that I need to use the bathroom, or that I'm gonna take a nap to rest my wrist. Damn it, she looks sad. I didn't mean to make her sad, I was just trying to talk to her. _Should _I leave? Or should I try one more time to fix this?

Elsa makes the decision for the both of us. She absentmindedly runs her fingers along the smoother part of the cast and looks at it intently, "You know…"

Ah fuck, she's gonna ask about the letter. I should have gone first, should have done something.

"...the offer still stands. You could still come with me. For Thanksgiving, I mean."

Oh.

I'd prefer it if she asked about the letter instead.

That does have me thinking, however, about why she's still inviting me. Does that mean the letter has something good in it? She wouldn't extend the invitation if the letter had bad news, right? Or maybe she's just being polite, letting me spend time with her because she doesn't have feelings for me and wants to let me down gently. Wait, that doesn't make sense, Anna.

Either way, I still can't accept the invitation. Not without reading the letter. And since I don't know _when _I'll be ready to read it, I don't wanna give her that hope. I can't let her down again.

I sigh, "Elsa…"

She shakes her head, "You know what? It's okay. That's a big thing to me ask of you, and after what we went through, it's unfair for me to ask you about this again."

"It's not that, I just...I…" I want to go, Elsa. I want to go with you, and be with you, so fucking bad. But I have to read this letter first, I need to know how you feel first. "I need to…"

Elsa lets out a breath and smiles, this one isn't genuine, "I need to get ready for my therapy session. You want to talk about getting dinner tonight when I come back?"

Too late, the moment's passed. I know that no matter how much I try to justify my responses, I hurt her on some level today. I need to read this fucking letter. "Okay," I reply, because there's nothing else I can say. She pats my cast and gets up, going to her room without saying another word.

Goddamn it, Anna. Hurry up and make this right.


	37. Day 205

**Day Two Hundred and Five: Kiss Me Again**

I've kinda been getting into researching fractures and how to take care of them and stuff. It's interesting, or maybe I just _want _it to be because I'll do anything to distract myself from the letter. Which is sitting next to my bed like a one-night stand that won't leave.

For example, did you know that I got really lucky? If I hadn't been wearing my gloves that day, I could have broken my whole damn wrist, and that would have required surgery and months of recovery. Since it's only a hairline fracture, I'm on the real low end of the recovery spectrum. Of course, I wouldn't even _have _to do any recovery if I wasn't a dumbass in the first place, but whatever.

Also, did you know that keeping my fingers moving can also help with recovery? Regular movement will keep my hand from stiffening, and I know just the tool to keep active. Unfortunately, Wilhelm has seen better days, and I don't wanna do any more damage to him for the time being.

All this to say that Elsa and I are at the pharmacy to get me a new stress toy. Which, I now realize sounds like a sex thing, and I swear it isn't.

Oh, and we're also here to pick up my refill for my meds. Apparently, bitching about the pain worked because my doctor prescribed a stronger dosage of painkillers. It's gonna suck when I finally run out of refills.

The pills are inside a paper bag in my good hand. Elsa offered to hold them for me, but I'm stubborn. And I'm feeling really guilty over not reading the letter, so I'm refusing to let her do more for me than she already has. She's holding our empty shopping basket in front of her with both hands, eyeing the colorful assortment of stress balls with me.

"Are you sure we're in the right aisle?" I ask her, "Because these look like dog toys."

"I'm sure," Elsa replies. "They don't have the animals in stock, but this is the aisle I got them in."

"Are you sure you didn't just get me a dog toy?"

Elsa frowns, "I wouldn't do that."

"Of course not _intentionally_, I'm just saying that maybe you-"

She bumps me with her shoulder, "Could you just pick one? Jerk."

I laugh, "Alright fine."

There really isn't that big of a selection, and most of them are those gross watery kind that expand outwards when you squish them, showing you the gross liquid shit inside. I There's a row of tennis balls that I wouldn't be able to squish unless I had massive hands. And on the bottom row, amidst other toys that kids carelessly tossed inside were some animal plushies.

While those were adorable, the only way I'd be able to ease stress with them would be if I punched them. And punching things is how I got into this mess in the first place. I mean I guess I could talk to one, too, but then I'd look like a lunatic.

I sigh, "Don't they have like those cubes with the buttons and stuff that you can fidget around with?"

"Fidget cubes?" Elsa asked. "Not that I can recall."

"What about those spinning things that you can fidget?"

"Fidget spinners."

"God, who names this stuff?" I take one last hopeless glance at the shameful stock of stress relievers. "There's gotta be something here that can help me do stuff with my fingers."

"You could always take up writing," Elsa suggested.

"No, I- hell no, I'm not doing that. I think I'll leave that to you." A silly thought pops into my head, an alternative to searching for Wilhelm. "Hey what's that cube called with all the colors on it?"

"A Rubik's cube," Elsa answered.

"Yeah that one." I look down the aisle and up at the overhead signs. "You think they have those here?"

Elsa looks up for a second as if she's searching for the answer, "Probably in the toy aisle. You want me to check?" Again with the wanting to jump in and help me with the smallest thing. I'm amazed and grateful for it, but I don't want her to do anymore for me than she already has. Not until I can do the one thing she's asked _me _to do.

I shake my head, "I got it. Besides, you've got stuff on your list too, right?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Cool, I'll go look for one of those...cube thingies. And I'll find you when I do." With that, I'm gone and looking at the signs to find the toy aisle.

I...really wish I knew what was holding me back from reading the letter.

Sometimes I can't even look at it, it'll just sit on my bed..._menacingly_. Look, if it's good news then I'll probably kick myself for not reading it sooner. And if it's bad news, then I'll kick myself for waiting this long to read it. Either way, the longer I wait, the more it becomes a lose-lose situation. _Especially _if it's good news, I don't wanna test Elsa's patience any more than I have. She might be good at waiting, but everyone's got their limits.

And I'm sure I'm not the only one pissed at me. If my life was a TV show, everyone would probably be screaming at me to just read the fucking thing already.

I find my way to the toy aisle, a mom and her two kids are looking at the action figures and toy swords. Since that's not where I need to be, it's easy to just stay out of their way, especially since the mom looks exceptionally tired and might bite the head off anyone that gets close.

Elsa's right, like always. The colorful cubes are with the other novelty stuff like cards and slinkies. I put my meds in my injured hand, curling my fingers around the paper bag as best that I can, and use my healthy hand to take a cube off of its hook. It's secured in a plastic mold, and I can see that the cubes actually have stickers on them. I always thought they were painted.

Right now, each side of the cube is a single color, but I know that once I start noodling around with it, that won't be the case. I've seen people solve these things before, but that's not my goal. My goal is to, well, noodle around with it.

Elsa could probably solve it.

With all of my shopping done I figure it's time to find her again, but I decide to make a pit stop before that. I check the overhead signs again, walking to the candy aisle.

Elsa won't tell me outright because she's too polite, but I know she's on her period right now. I'm not gonna get into the details how, but I always know. She never tells me, but I always know. And while I also know she's capable of taking care of herself, that doesn't mean I can't help her out a little bit. I grab a couple bars of dark chocolate, and a few milk chocolate bars for when she inevitably whines about having to eat the other ones.

With my surprise in tow, I head to the cashier to pay for my stuff. When the cashier looks at the insane amount of chocolate I'm buying, I give her a shrug as if to say "You know how it is."

The pharmacy is smallish, so it shouldn't be too hard to find Elsa. When I check the aisle that we were last at together, though, she's not there. How _dare _she not be in the same place I left her fifteen minutes later?

She's not in the aisle behind this one, either. I swear if I was like six years-old and she was my mother, I'd be hyperventilating right now.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time I've lost her," I say to myself. And now I've made myself sad.

When I hit the "Hair Care" aisle, I finally find her and...she's not alone. She's talking to some guy. The shopping basket, now filled with assorted items, is resting in one hand near her hip and thankfully she's facing me so that I can see that the conversation she's having with this dude is one she doesn't want to be having.

She's got on a weak, polite smile and is nodding along with whatever he's saying, but her body language says that she needs an out. Luckily, since I have experience in this, I can be that out for her.

Elsa spots me almost immediately, and her face lights up. I know it's probably just relief that she's about to be saved, but damn if I don't want her to look at me that way all the time. She waves at me and walks my way, and before she can even say anything the fabricated truth comes out of my mouth.

"Oh there you are, sis! I was looking all over for you!"

I've used the classic "Pretend you're my sister" card on my friends and random girls before. I feel like guys tend to back off a little easier since I already look like the "Bitchy Older Sister" type. I've never used it with Elsa before though, because I never had to. When we were together, she always stuck with me, and if not all I would have to do is glare at the person hitting on her and they got the message.

In hindsight, though, I probably shouldn't have said anything. Because just as I called her "sis", Elsa said:

"Hey babe!"

_Fuck_.

Now, I'm usually good at improvising this kinda shit, but when you factor in the fact that we used to date, I told her I loved her like two weeks ago, _and _she's never called me "babe" before, I was too stunned to say anything else.

What makes this awful yet amazing moment even worse/better is that Elsa _isn't _stunned, goes along with it, and _kisses me on the cheek._

The dude's a total preppy boy stereotype with the khaki shorts and sandals even though it's November, and a light-blue long-sleeved shirt with slicked-back brown hair. He's probably here to get a box of too-large condoms that he'll never get to use. "Wait...huh?" he says in disbelief, pointing a finger at me. "Are you guys dating? Or sisters?"

"Dating," I say.

"Sisters," Elsa says.

"I'm confused," preppy boy mutters.

See, now I'm more exasperated than confused. Goddamn it Elsa, just work with me. I'm all set to come up with some convoluted story about how we've been dating so long that people think we're sisters, but the confusion on this poor, innocent douche is too amusing. Plus, I think my brain hasn't fully reset from that kiss on the cheek. So, I just think...fuck it.

"Both," I reply. "We're sisters, and we're dating."

And, even more amusing, Elsa goes along with it. She puts her free arm around my waist and says, "Yup, we're both." She kisses me again on the cheek- son of a _bitch_\- and adds smugly, "Is there a problem with that?"

The preppy boy looks at us with shock and...anger? "Ugh, you two are disgusting!" he says before walking away.

Despite my increasing heartbeat from being this close to Elsa and still feeling the ghost of her lips on my cheek, I let out a snort when I know he's gone for sure. "That was...something."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Elsa says, taking her arm off my waist (damn it). "And sorry for making you...improvise. I guess we have to work on our communication."

"Eh, just a little bit," I say with a nervous giggle. I want to ask her why she automatically went to "we're dating", but I don't wanna push it just in case she regrets anything. "Are you all done?"

Elsa smiles at me, both apologetic and relieved, "Just about. All I have to do is pay."

"Yeah...yeah that's smart."

She turns around with an uncharacteristic twirl on her heels, holding her grocery basket back in both hands. It's cute, really cute. I follow close behind, trying not to check out how well _she _can pull off khaki shorts.

As we walk, another thought pops into my head that I now have to push away, along with the guilt from not reading the letter and the joy from hearing Elsa calling me "babe". It's a simple, pathetic, embarrassing thought:

Kiss me again, Elsa.


	38. Day 210

**Day Two Hundred and Ten: The Test**

Eleven days later, and I still haven't read the letter. I have no excuse, other than every time that I try, something holds me back.

What is it? Fear? Insecurity? The out-of-nowhere plot twist that I'm actually illiterate?

...okay maybe it's just the first two.

Yesterday, though, I took a _really _big step and actually opened the envelope. And then, once I did that, I pussied out, shoved the letter in my drawer, and ate some ice cream. The mint chocolate wasn't enough to ease my internal suffering, but that's probably because I've been eating too much of it.

And now it's Sunday, which means another check-in with Olaf. I can't believe two weeks ago I was laying on this couch, choking Wilhelm, and sulking over Elsa not being here. Now I'm on laying on this couch Wilhelm-less and sulking over not being able to read a fucking letter.

Elsa's getting much more antsy too, I can tell. She's always changing the subject of what we're talking about if things get too quiet, and we've barely spent any time together aside from dinners and her poking her head into my room to ask what I'm watching. She's keeping her distance, because she knows she'll be too eager to ask about the letter, and she knows I haven't read it yet.

The check-in before this went so smoothly, it was almost like Elsa hadn't been gone at all. I mean it definitely helped that mine took like five minutes, because Olaf really wanted to catch up with Elsa. To be fair, I don't blame him- I missed her too- I just kind of wish he didn't spend _our _check-in time talking about Elsa too.

"So how have things been with Elsa since she came back?"

And, unnecessarily, I kind of snap at him. "Can we, for once, _not _talk about Elsa? I mean _I'm _an interesting person too, you know?"

Unfazed, Olaf scribbles on his notepad (back to one snowflake sticker, by the way) and says just as cheery, "Okay! Then tell me about yourself, Anna. Anything you want to, I'm all ears."

I blink, "...what?"

He shrugs, but it's like a happy shrug? Do those exist? Well if they did, then Olaf just did it. "Let's talk about you! It's clear that you two are doing just fine and I'm assuming you still want to stay here, so let's just talk."

"It's _that _easy?! Elsa and I have lived here for half of a year, and the only way I could get you to stop talking about her was asking you to stop talking about her?!"

Olaf looks around confused, like there are cameras off to the side, "Um...yes."

I pause, gradually un-sour my face, and slump into the couch again. "I'm so upset," I mumble.

Olaf sets his clipboard down and crosses one leg over the other like a talk-show host. "What do you wanna talk about? Or did you want me to start? I've got a whole book of conversation starters."

Of course I don't actually have anything I want to tell him about myself. I was just momentarily annoyed that everyone and everything in my life right now either talks about or reminds me of Elsa. Which is no one else's fault but my own.

And you know what the twisted thing is? Even _I _wanna talk about Elsa.

There's nothing I'm itching to tell Olaf other than what he already knows, and even though I've kinda loosened up on the whole "being a bitch" thing, it's not like I wanna be buddies with him or whatever. I'm not gonna tell him about the letter, obviously, but...I don't know, maybe his bubbly, always-motivated energy could rub off on me and I can finally read it.

Still frowning, I reply, "I...why can't I just _always _be a good person to Elsa?"

He nods slowly, like he's really letting that question sink in. Like he's really listening. "Is there any particular reason that you want to be a good person to her? Apart from easing your living situation, of course."

Now, a smart person would say that that's the only reason so that I could keep Olaf off the love scent or whatever. Oh ick, "love scent" sounds like some weird sex thing.

Anyway, a smart person would have said no. But I'm not a smart person.

"Well that and she's been through a lot. I want her to know that I can always be there for her, and help her be happy, even if I'm the one that's caused a lot of her shit."

Olaf doesn't respond, just tips his head slightly as his lips purse into a pout. It's very off-putting.

"What?"

No response again, he just tilts his head a little more.

"What?"

And then a little bit more.

"_What?"_

"You're in love with her," he responds.

"_What?!" _Oh fuck, dial it back Reinhart.

"I mean it was pretty obvious before, but those words all but confirmed my suspicions. You're in love with Elsa. Again, I mean." The way he speaks, so matter-of-fact and with a hint of sly arrogance, is unnerving. All of a sudden, instead of a pseudo-therapy session, this feels more like an interrogation. And the desk lamp is shining right in my eyes. "I'm sure you know what this means, right?"

"Yeah, you'd have to evict us. But that's only if you're right, and you're _not_," I lie. "Wanting to be a good person doesn't mean that I'm in love with her."

"Of course not, but your motivation to be better _is_ your re-emerging love for her."

"I am _not _in…" Wow, I can't even deny it. I think it's because Elsa's waiting right behind her door and I don't want her to hear such a bald-faced lie. Even though she can't hear us right now. "Look, how can you even tell? Because you're a love expert?"

Olaf nods to himself, "Well, that and you just admitted it."

"When?! How?!"

"You just asked me how I can tell."

"I didn't…" Holy fuck, I did. "That was just...hypothetical. I was going along with it, that's all."

"Anna, I'm sorry. You know I was really rooting for both of you, but this goes against the one and only rule of the contest."

I'm ruining this for the both of us, after two-hundred something days of course it would be me that fucks everything up. Nice going, dumbass, now we just have to _try _and convince him that I'm not in love with Elsa even though I totally am. How in the hell am I gonna do that? I'm not the person who's good with words. She's currently in her room, oblivious to all of this.

But how? How do I fix this? What do I say?

"I'm going to have to report this to Mr. Arendelle."

...ugh. I know what to say. I just don't wanna say it.

"This is bullshit, Olaf, and you know it."

Olaf puts his clipboard down, he actually looks pretty offended. "Excuse me?" he says in a tone of voice I've never heard from him before.

"The premise of this contest, the idea of falling in love with someone _again _is bullshit. You might lose feelings for them, you might even find somebody else, but that first love never goes away. And Elsa was _mine_, sh-she...I've always loved her. Even before this stupid contest, and all this time we've been living together." Huh, I'm not crying. The last time I talked about my love for Elsa, I was crying like a fucking baby, but aside from a stutter I think I'm doing just fine.

Is this what character growth feels like?

Shut up Anna, just focus on your rant.

"And if you're such a love expert, then you should have been picking that up from the start. But you let us stay here, which means you probably think this whole thing is bullshit too! That, or I found a loophole in the fucking contract. I can't fall in love with Elsa again, and you wanna know why? Because I never _stopped _loving her. Ever!"

For a moment, I feel pretty guilty because I think that maybe I've terrified this poor, pale-faced twig with a weird sense of fashion. But Olaf doesn't miss a beat, he straightens his fish-patterned tie and says, "Congratulations, Anna. You passed the test."

"Uh...what?"

"You did it! You found the loophole!"

What the fuck? "I did?"

"Love is complicated and messy, and Elsa was the first girl you ever fell in love with, so of course those feelings would always be there. This was all a test, we wanted to see which couple could be able to work out their differences and rekindle their love for one another."

I blink, "But Elsa doesn't love me."

"Are you so sure about that?"

"Of course I…" I stop myself, and think back to everything we've been through this past year. I remember all the times she stayed when I was a bitch, when she took care of me when I was sick, when she helped me get through my _own _Aurora situation. That kind of shit goes way beyond common decency. "Elsa loves me."

Olaf gives me a lop-sided smile, "Of course she does. You know what you have to do now, right?"

I look over at her door, for some reason it feels farther away now. But when I stand up, take a small yet bold step, it gets closer. "I have to go to her," I respond.

"No," Olaf says. "You have to wake up."

* * *

"...wake up, Anna."

I feel soft pats on my shoulder, and my eyes snap awake.

Wait, awake?

Yeah, I'm awake. For real this time, I think. That was a dream, that whole thing. There was no couch, or me almost crying, or any test. All of that happened while I was asleep. No. No no no. All of that _never _happened.

Shit, is it even Sunday?

"Anna?"

I blink and turn my head slightly, Elsa's here. She's waking me up. It's Sunday, I'm sure it is. Gosh, those pain meds _fuck _me up. "The hell?" I say, well, grumble.

Elsa pulls her hand back, "Sorry, was I tapping you too hard?"

"No, you good. Uh, you're good." I raise my hand to rub my eyes and smack myself with a bundle of discolored plaster. Right, my left wrist is fucked. How do I keep forgetting about that? "What day is it?"

"Sunday."

Oh good, I still have the date right. "What time?"

"9:42 AM."

My eyes go wide and I sit up, nearly bumping my head into Elsa's. "Shit! The check-in!"

I rip my blanket off of me, cursing when it gets stuck on my cast, but I don't even get my butt off the bed before Elsa puts her hands on my shoulders and says softly, "Hey, it's alright. You don't have to check in this week. I told Olaf to just let you sleep in because they strengthened your pain meds."

Elsa knows that my meds fuck up my sleep? But how?

Wait, that doesn't matter. What matters is that she covered for me, and let me get some sleep, and probably saved me from saying some dumb shit to Olaf and getting us kicked out. "So...he's gone?"

Elsa smiles at me like a mother taking care of her child. Oh eww no, get that imagery out of your head. You're already fucked up enough as it is. She smiles like a woman checking on a wounded soldier that she has the hots for...okay now I think I'm just projecting. "Yeah, he left like an hour ago."

"Ugh damn…" I close my eyes for a second and pinch the bridge of my nose, "It's been forever since I slept in on a Sunday."

"Yeah same."

So that whole thing was just a dream. They've been getting pretty damn realistic these last few weeks. The last one was the day before Elsa came back and, well, look how that turned out. I don't even have to think about what this latest dream means, it's pretty obvious. Whatever the letter says, it's never gonna change what I'll feel for Elsa. I'm always gonna be in love with her, whether we're together or not.

Ugh, when did I become such a sappy, hopeless romantic? Fuck it, I'm reading this letter.

* * *

**A/N: This is not a trick, this is not a bamboozle. Set your alarms, Anna's reading it next week. **

**As in like...next real-life week. Like seven real days from now. **

**You get what I mean.**

**Shut up.**


	39. Day 211

**Day Two Hundred and Eleven: The Letter Part Two**

This is gonna be a short day.

I can...I can just feel it. I know that once I read this letter, there will be nothing left of me that can do anything else.

Elsa's gone again, but I know this time that she's coming back. She left this morning to spend Thanksgiving with her family. If there's any bright side to me staying, it's that I won't have to deal with the full extent of her family. I didn't feel like answering questions from her aunts and uncles, and entertaining her bratty cousins (it's okay, she doesn't like them either).

Before she left, she gave me a hug that I never wanted to end. She said that she'd be back on Saturday, and then walked out the door.

And even though I knew she was going to come back, it didn't stop my heart from hurting when the door closed. She'll be back, but right now I'm alone. Again.

I'm sitting alone in our kitchen, with an open envelope right in front of me. I can feel a chilling warmth across my back, like the ghost of her was lingering behind me. A ghost formed by the mistakes of our past, the reality of our present, and the uncertainty of our future.

Anna Reinhart, it's time.

Fuck, I could really use a drink right now, curse these stupid painkillers. At least I have water to help my increasingly dry throat. I move the envelope towards me, open it, and grab the papers inside. Two of them, there are two pages. Everything she wanted to tell me is all on two pages. I was scared shitless over _two pages_.

My fingers feel like they're burning as I grip the corners and unfold the letter. There's no turning back. I drink the rest of my water bottle, careful not to get a single drop on the papers, and...and I start reading.

* * *

_Dear Anna,_

_You would think after living together for half a year, I'd know how to start this letter, but I still don't. I've lost count of the number of drafts that I've written and thrown away, it just feels like I can never really say everything that I want to. Even though this isn't school, there are no word or page limits. I'm just supposed to tell you what I've been feeling, right?_

_And yet, even now, it's hard. Not because I don't know how I feel, but because I'm ashamed that I never told you sooner. I feel like I never TRULY took the time to figure it out, I always got too anxious when I thought about you and I- or rather, I got too anxious when I thought about what I did to you._

_But you forgave me, even after everything you stayed with me and you forgave me for what I did. I don't think I can put into words how much THAT means to me, Anna. But I...I want to try. For you, and for me, and for us? Even though there isn't an us anymore. Alright, enough sad stuff, Elsa. The past is in the past._

_Anna, you are the most passionate and outspoken woman I have ever met. You cared about me in a way that no one else ever has, not even my parents. And you know how much I admire them, so that's especially hard for me to say. You're fun, charming, sweet when you want to be, and I always felt safe when I was with you. I never thought I would hear you say those words again, and even though YOU were sad when you were saying them...it made me feel really happy._

_Which, I know, is a little weird for me to say because you were crying and, well, I was also crying. But it's the truth. I was so relieved to know that the Anna I knew was still here with me, that even after what happened between us you could still feel so strongly towards me. And I know that it hurt you to confess, and it probably hurt even more that you had to bottle it up for this contest. You didn't know what I felt for you..._

_Well, now you're going to._

_From the second that you showed up at my door with that sausage pizza- even though I ordered cheese- I knew that I wanted to see you again. And again. And again. I think I spent more money on pizza that month than anything else. I fell for you almost immediately, and honestly after Aurora I didn't think that was even possible anymore. But you made it possible, Anna. YOU did._

_And I wanted nothing more than to stay with this wonderful, beautiful amazing person that made me feel something I'd never felt before: love. It's because of you, and because of countless therapy sessions, that I can finally write that word, and that I can finally write this:_

_Anna Reinhart, I'm in love with you._

_I knew when you first told me, I knew after we broke up, I knew when we moved in together, I've known for a VERY long time that I'm in love with you. You are truly the only girl that I've ever loved, and I know it's true because no girl drives me crazier than you do. In a good way, obviously._

_I love you. I love you! I LOVE YOU!_

_With all of my goddamn heart, Anna, I love you so much and contest be damned I want to be with you. I really hope that when I give you this letter, that you'll still feel the same way._

_If not, I'll understand. I closed the door on us and I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life._

_But if you still love me too, then I'd want nothing more than to be with you. Because I love you. Gah, I know I'm writing it a lot but it's because it feels SO good to just let it out. I hope...I hope I get the chance to SAY it to you. If you'll let me._

_Anyway, one more time, from the dumbest blonde on the planet: I love you, Anna Reinhart._

_\- Elsa Stark_

* * *

I'm such a fucking idiot.

I should be happy and through the goddamn roof after reading that Elsa loves me. And I _am_, but I mostly just feel like an idiot. I'm the biggest fucking idiot on the planet, maybe even the universe.

It was a _good _letter, maybe the best letter that anyone's ever gotten. And I held on to the fucking thing for almost two weeks, psyching myself out for nothing. I read that line over and over again: "I love you." It still doesn't feel like it's true, like...am I dreaming again? No, no this is really happening. I can tell because I still have on the stupid cast.

Elsa...loves me.

It sinks in more and more with each passing second, it becomes more real. And as it becomes more real, as my heart finally stops beating so hard, everything gets brighter and clearer. There's this heaviness in the pit of my heart that's growing. This is the best thing that's ever happened for me, and that growing feeling has to be me wanting to scream for joy. And I'm not much of a "scream for joy" kind of person, but I think I can make an exception for right now because Elsa Stark fucking loves me.

So, I put the letter down, I take some shaky breaths to let that feeling grow just a little bit more, and then…

I start sobbing.

Loudly.

I'm sobbing so much that it's already starting to hurt my throat, and I still want to scream but it's not out of joy. Why am I crying? What's wrong with me?

Is it because the woman I love is going to be gone for almost a week and I could have gone with her? That's a little overdramatic, but I was never one to keep my emotions at bay. No, it's more than that.

Elsa and I...we may have been brought up differently, and went through different shit, but she and I share the same insecurity of never feeling like we'll ever be _loved_ by anyone. And now that it's happened, joy isn't the only emotion crashing down on me.

It's all of them.


	40. Day 214

**Day Two Hundred and Fourteen: Friendsgiving**

Well, the good news is that I've survived all the way to Thursday, big fucking whoop. The bad news is that Elsa won't be back for another two days and the guilt I have for not going with her has settled in deep. Right now she's helping her mother prepare dinner, and what am _I _doing?

Okay so...I'm actually helping Rapunzel prepare dinner.

Leave it to my best friend to be the outgoing ray of sunshine that I need right now, dragging me out of the hotel to spend "Friendsgiving" at her place. Which is just Thanksgiving but with me as a third wheel. I can't complain that much, though, spending today alone would be utterly depressing. I'm glad to be spending it with Rapunzel and her _fiancé _Eugene.

What bothers me more is that I _know _she always goes back home to Corona for Thanksgiving. I can't shake the feeling that Rapunzel changed plans because of me. That thought makes me want to cry- then again I'll cry about anything right now- but I don't want to ruin the cornbread batter.

Which, by the way, is a hundred times harder when you only have one working hand. Even if Rapunzel just happens to have a stand mixer on...hand (ugh, puns).

I twist the heavy bowl in place, lower the mixer arm down, and set it on its lowest setting. It stirs the goopy, yellowish batter while I stand around like a dumbass, waiting to turn it off. God, I'm usually _not _this useless, I can make some amazing mashed potatoes, but this stupid cast…

I feel a breadcrumb land on the side of my head. "Hey! No sad faces on Friendsgiving!"

I turn to meet Rapunzel's disapproving pout, she's holding a cup of breadcrumbs in her hand. I sigh, "Just cause I'm here doesn't mean you have to stop calling it Thanksgiving, you know?"

Rapunzel shrugs, "I know, I just want to." She turns around to sprinkle the breadcrumbs over the green bean casserole and adds, "I'll call it Thanksgiving tomorrow, when I'm at my parents' place."

Ah, that must have been the deal she struck with them. Spend Thank..._Friends_giving here, and then drive over to Corona to have a proper family dinner. Figures that the nicest girl in the world would have the nicest parents in the world too- well, second nicest. I turn the mixer up to medium speed to get rid of any remaining chunks. And just to make sure, I ask, "They're really okay with you not being with them today?"

"Eh, it did take some convincing. But I'm sure they'll be more than okay with it when I spring the big surprise on them." Rapunzel raised her hand to flash the gorgeous engagement ring on her finger.

I scoff, "You haven't told them yet?!"

"Eugene only proposed yesterday!" Rapunzel explained, "And I want to tell everyone in person. So technically, you're the only other person that knows."

Fuck, this newfound overflow of emotions is going to kill me. The fact that I'm the first person Rapunzel told about the engagement is filling me with so much...I think it's happiness, that it makes me want to cry. I mean it's just because of the matter of circumstances we find ourselves in right now, but it makes me feel so goddamn special.

But no! No crying in her apartment, Anna Reinhart! We reserve all our tears for the hotel. Instead, I turn off the mixer and hug the back of Rapunzel as tightly as I can with one arm.

Rapunzel yelps, "Anna?"

"Shut up, you know I'm in a weird emotional spot right now," I say, which is all she needs to hear.

Because she's you know, my _best friend_, she was the first one I talked to after I read the letter. This of course turned into a snowball effect that has me ruining her Thanksgiving plans. Apparently, she "didn't think it was a good idea if I was alone". Pssh, what does she know?

...more than me.

Of course she knows more than me, she's been in a steady relationship longer than I have.

Rapunzel pats the back of my palm. "Is the batter ready?"

I let her go before this gets too weird, and take one step in her cramped, lovely kitchen. "Just about," I respond, twisting the bowl off of the mixer. "I mean I'm pretty sure it being yellow and goopy means it's ready." And heavy, how did it get heavier than when I first carried it? Emotions are making me weak.

That or, you know, I didn't try to lift it up the last time and now I gotta pour this sucker into a cake pan. I'm strong, but not _that _strong, the bowl starts shaking in my hand.

Two perfectly healthy hands grab the bottom of the bowl and take it from me. "Don't worry, I got this," Rapunzel says.

I sigh, "Hate not having both my hands."

"Well at least now you know to take it easy on the punching bag next time," Rapunzel replied, pouring the batter into the pan.

"He had it coming. Also, where _is _Eugene?"

"Taking Maximus out for a walk, they should be back any minute now."

That minute turned out to be this one. Rapunzel's apartment door opened. A big, white labrador entered first with a leash dangling around his neck, and then Eugene entered with his hands on his hips.

"You're not gonna let me take off the leash, at least?" Flynn sighed and shook his head, turning to the both of us, "I guess not."

Rapunzel walked over to her man and placed her hands around his neck before kissing him. "Hey babe!" she says with the cheerfulness of someone that just got engaged. "How was he?"

"Still hates me. He was whining the whole time."

Maximus made a dog noise.

"Oh, yes you did!" Eugene argued. "You big oaf. Anyway, what's up Anna?"

I shrug, "Ah you know, just wading in my pool of singleness, ruining my best friend's Thanksgiving plans."

"Rapunzel didn't tell you that we changed-"

"She did, but self-deprecating humor is currently my only coping mechanism. That, and making cornbread, I guess."

Eugene nods sympathetically, "Well, Thanksgiving _is _one of the best times for both."

Rapunzel nudged his side with her elbow and corrected him, "_Friends_giving."

"Babe, you know I'm not calling it that," he deadpanned.

"Yeah, me neither," I added, taking advantage of the situation.

Rapunzel groaned, "You guys are the worst."

* * *

Dinner was amazing, thanks mostly in part to Rapunzel's doing.

The total menu consisted of holiday classics with Rapunzel's added flair and love: a small turkey with a spiced breaded stuffing, mashed potatoes, cornbread with a honey glaze, and a green bean casserole. And for dessert, she even made these miniature apple pies. I ate so much that it almost cleared away my guilt for being here today.

I let out a massive burp and snuck Maximus one last slice of turkey, "How'd you get all this food in time for today anyway?"

"Aggressive last-minute shopping," Eugene replied. "Some guy tried to hit me with a sack of potatoes after getting the last turkey."

Rapunzel wiped her mouth with her napkin and looked at her fiancé wide-eyed, "Why didn't you tell me that before?!"

"Eh, it didn't feel important. Besides, everything worked out. Anna's here, dinner got cooked, _and _we still had an amazing Thanksgiving because of the best woman in the world." Eugene sealed his nauseatingly cute comment with a kiss on Rapunzel's cheek.

God, what I wouldn't give to be able to do that with Elsa again.

Rapunzel pouted, but it was obvious she wasn't upset, "Fine, you're off the hook. But next time you're bringing my frying pan."

Again, that stupid overflow of emotions overtakes me and makes me tear up just a little bit. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough for me to say something really sappy: "I'm really happy for you guys. You both deserve each other."

Rapunzel smiles at me and reaches over to squeeze my good hand. The engagement ring gleams as if it's smiling at me too. Although, that's ridiculous, since gems don't have feelings.

Eugene raises an eyebrow, "I can't tell if that's sarcasm or not. But on the off-chance that it isn't, then thank you, Anna. That means a lot to the both of us."

"It's not sarcasm, trust me." To save face, and to snap myself out of my gross, sappy mood, I add: "But just remember that if you do something stupid to hurt Rapunzel, like leave her alone at the altar, I will find you and staple your nuts to a tree."

"Anna!" Rapunzel exclaims, squeezing my hand a little tighter.

But Eugene just laughs, there being an obvious hint of nervousness in it, "I'll keep that in mind."

My phone starts vibrating in my pants, saving me from having to save myself. I pull it out of my pocket as Maximus shuffles up to his feet again, hoping for another treat. Usually I don't answer my phone while I'm having dinner, and usually I don't get calls anyway, but this one felt different. I check the Caller ID…

And it's Elsa.

I stand up and walk over to Rapunzel's small balcony/patio. "Sorry, I gotta take this," I tell the couple.

Maximus follows me out, which is fine because dogs can't snitch anyway, and I close the sliding glass door to get a little more privacy. Rapunzel and Eugene continue talking inside, probably about something cute and romantic. I swipe across my screen to accept the call and put the phone up to my ear, "Hello?"

"_Anna? Hey!"_

I'm so glad that I stepped outside for this call because hearing Elsa's voice for the first time in days almost makes me tear up _again_. Especially when she sounds genuinely happy to hear from me. "Hey Elsa!" I try to say without sounding more joyful than her, "Everything okay?"

"_Yeah of course, I...I was calling to see how _you _were doing."_

Elsa was thinking about me? ...Elsa was thinking about _me._ Holy shit do I feel special right now. I'm so in shock that I almost forget to reply. "Me? I- ah, I'm doing fine. I'm with Rapunzel and Eugene right now. We just had dinner."

"_Oh thank goodness, I was so worried you were going to spend Thanksgiving alone."_

I let out a comically fake laugh, "What gave you that idea?" Aside from the, you know, everything about me. "Anyway, how are you? What are you doing right now?"

"_Ah, I finally found a little bit of time to sneak off." _That probably explains the lack of background noise, and why she sounds like she's in a hurry. _"I'm okay, but it's been a little bit crazy here. My Aunt Bulda just got divorced and she's trying to make the whole day about her."_

"Ick, I always hated her."

"_Yeah, you and me both," _Elsa muttered. _"How's your wrist?"_

"Aside from it making me feel like a waste of space during dinner prep? Just peachy, it only hurts when I hit it."

"_Anna…"_

"I'm not hitting it anymore, don't worry."

"_You better not be."_

"I'm not!" I raise my hands up in surrender, even though she can't see me. "Although you should have seen me try to pour cornbread batter earlier. It was, uh...it was a bitch."

"_Rapunzel didn't help you?"_

"Oh she did," I sigh and lean on the railing. It's a good thing Rapunzel only lives on the second floor. If it suddenly snapped off, I probably won't die from the fall. Hopefully, I mean I still need to tell Elsa I still love her. Again. "But you know me, I'm stubborn."

"_Yeah...well I'm glad that you're doing okay. Call me if you need anything, I'll be right there."_

Well it's not technically a need, but I _want _her to come back already so that I can kiss her and tell her I read the letter and stuff. Thinking about how she'll be gone for another three days makes me feel so anxious. It's like the moment before you open your Christmas present, and you already know it's the one you've been wanting for forever.

Again, though, having her back early isn't a need. Maximus rests his big head on my shoe, I wrap my casted hand across my stomach and rest my elbow on it. I decide to be half-honest with Elsa, "You know that even if I needed you right now, I wouldn't tell you. I've already taken Rapunzel away from her family, I'm not doing the same to you."

"_I don't think you took Rapunzel away from her family. And you wouldn't be taking me away from mine either. Anna, I…"_

She pauses, and I wonder if she's about to say what I've already read. It makes me wonder about her hurried tone. Is she trying to get all her words out before she has to go back to her family? Or is she wanting me to say that I want her home?

No...no that's ridiculous, Anna. She loves her family. But she also loves you…

Before the conversation can go any further, I hear what sounds like a door opening on the other end, and a muffled voice. Elsa's speaking, but it's clearly not to me. This other conversation lasts for a few more seconds before I hear Elsa sigh again.

"_That was my grandmother, giving me the option of washing dishes or looking after my cousins."_

"Eww, which one did you pick?"

"_Washing the dishes, obviously."_

I snort, "Well then don't let me keep you."

"_Yeah, I...I should get going. I'll see you soon, okay?"_

"Yeah. Oh, and Elsa?"

"_Hmm?"_

"Happy Thanksgiving."

She smiles, I know she does. _"Happy Thanksgiving, Anna."_

Elsa hangs up after that, and I turn around to look out at a different view of the Arendelle skyline than I'm used to. The city looks bigger from here, I can make out shop logos and highway lanes much more. For more than half a year, I've seen the city from above, and now it's...level.

And somewhere, farther up north, Elsa is looking out from the end of a cul de sac, maybe missing me as much as I miss her. My heart's filled with all this gross sappiness at the realization that she wanted to check up on me, and the residual reminder that she's in love with me.

And I'm in love with her.

And in two excruciatingly long days, I can say that again without being afraid of the answer.

* * *

**A/N: I was very glad to see the emotional response from the letter, it was very validating. It was literally one of the toughest things I've had to write for this story because I had to somehow convey what Elsa had been bottling up for years, and I was really hoping that I got that part right.  
**

**Anyway, thank you guys once again for sticking with me and this story. Every kind word means so much to me, and to know that I still have this much support forty chapters in is amazing. And kind of crazy to think about. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I have a special surprise waiting for y'all in the next one. It's time to break some promises.**


	41. Day 215

**Day Two Hundred and Fifteen: Reunion**

**A/N: Special shoutout to eijichan4 on for the amazing piece of fanart they drew for this fic. You can check it out on their tumblr. **

**I hope you guys are staying safe inside and outside. As crazy as the world seems right now, I hope stories like these can be a source of escapism and a bright spot for you. Anyway, enough from me. You want to know what happens next for these lovable idiots, right? **

**Unless it's angst...I feel like you guys are done with that. Oops. **

* * *

I haven't done a lot of crazy stuff in my life. I also haven't done a lot of dumb stuff in my life. So to do something _this _crazy and dumb is pretty out of character for me. Even as I'm blazing down the highway, bags carelessly piled in the backseat and with a risky cup of coffee in my hand, all that I can say is:

"Elsa Stark, you are freaking insane."

My initial plan was to sneak out early in the morning while everyone was asleep, but the surprise of my mother being up before me ruined that. She, of course, asked why I was walking around the kitchen with my suitcase at 4 AM, and I had to come clean.

I told her I miss Anna, and whether she read the letter or not, I want to be back home with her. My parents know that I wrote her a letter, they just don't know what it says. They don't know a lot of the details of what we've been through this year, but they do know that I never got over her. It's why I agreed to the contest in the first place.

The Stark family typically stays at my parents' house until Saturday at the very least, and start tapering off from there. I promised to help my parents clean up when everyone leaves, and I've never broken a promise before. I told my mom that I'd get here earlier for Christmas so that I could help her get the place ready, but she told me that she wasn't upset, everything was okay, and…

"_You better make sure Anna's here for Christmas, okay?"_

I told her I'd do my best.

Even after getting my mother's blessing, though, this plan still feels crazy and ridiculous. Probably because it _is _crazy and ridiculous.

I don't even know what I'm gonna say when I get back. Like...what if she hasn't read the letter yet? I can't tell her that I came home early because I missed her, that's too forward. And I can't lie either, so...yeah.

Yeah.

What _are _you going to say, Elsa?

I'm cruising down the freeway, the only people accompanying me across the lanes are people going to or returning from their Black Friday shopping sprees. It's 7 AM, and I should get to Central Arendelle in maybe ten minutes. There's no way Anna's awake right now. Which, again, goes to show how little thought I've put into this.

What am I gonna do? Knock on her door and wake her up? There's a 50/50 chance she either hurts herself, or I barge in on her in her underwear. I mean, not that I'd complain if it was the second one, but- no! Not the time to think like that!

Maybe it's the first sips of coffee I've had in months, or the surge of panic that rushes over me at that moment, but I suddenly (and _safely_) decide to merge onto the next exit.

Food. I could use some food right now.

* * *

I settle on a cozy, out-of-the-way diner near the highway. One of those diners that a protagonist would go to when they're on the run, or returning from being on the run. I'm technically neither.

Once I place my order, and get a refill of coffee (probably not a good idea) from a burnt-out yet still pleasant waitress, I can do nothing else but wait. And think.

Maybe food isn't what I could use right now, but I needed to burn a little bit more time and I'd already passed my apartment. I scroll through my phone, looking at all the pictures I'd taken this past year living with Anna.

The fountain at Central Arendelle Park, the ice cream we had at Arendelle Public Library, the burger I had for Anna's birthday (which I didn't have the heart to tell her tasted like a foot), the top of Sunrise Peak, the sunset at Veroa Beach…

Wow. It shouldn't come as a surprise to me that the year got progressively better, and yet it does. I guess a part of me didn't think we'd come this far, or become as close as we have. I remember not saying that to Anna in my reply about the competition, seeing as I didn't want her to freak out. For nostalgia's sake, I open my emails and search for that reply.

* * *

_Hey Anna, yes this is still my email. I'm glad that you remembered._

_I don't know how I haven't heard about this contest before, but it definitely does sound crazy. And, this might sound crazy too, but I could also use that money. Making it as an author is rough, and...I think it would be nice for us to catch up._

_At least, _I _want to catch up._

_I filled out the contest form, and they called me for an interview? When is yours scheduled?_

* * *

I didn't sign off on the email because I wanted it to, hopefully, be an ongoing conversation. She sent me the time of her interview and then didn't reply to my next message. I'd feel more crummy about this had we not gone through everything we did this year. We got through the sad, awkward reunion and now we- well, at least I know with a hundred percent certainty that _I _love her. I'm hoping she still feels the same, I'm hoping I'm not too late.

I sigh and look at the old university mug my mother gave me for the coffee, "Maybe I'm just being overdramatic."

A delicious plate of pancakes and scrambled eggs slides in front of me and the familiar voice of the burnt-out waitress adds, "Girl problems?"

Her beat-up name tag says Janet, so I assume that's her name. I sigh and give Janet a weak smile, "How can you tell?"

She shrugs in a way that tells me she cares but is too tired to do the bare minimum, "Well you're a girl, and you look like you've got some problems. So...girl problems."

"Haven't heard that line in a while," I say with a slight chuckle. "It's not really a problem, it- honestly, it's nothing."

"Honey, if a young woman like yourself is spending the morning after Thanksgiving at a diner, _alone_, then whatever problems you got ain't nothing."

Janet does have a point. I get the feeling that she usually isn't this talkative, but considering how dead this place is right now, she'd appreciate any semblance of a conversation. And right now, so would I. Anything to help get my head on straight, you know? I grab the bottle of syrup and continue talking as the thick liquid slowly pours out of the tip. "You're right. I...left my parents' house earlier in the morning. You see, I've got this girl waiting for me."

"Ah…young love. I get it," Janet remarks. "How long have you been together?"

I blink, "Oh, it's not- we're not actually together anymore. I mean we _were_, but then we broke up, and then we moved in together, and things just sorta changed after that."

She narrows her eyes at me, that or she's about to fall asleep standing up. "You moved in _after _breaking up? Also, you're flooding those poor pancakes, honey."

I look down and see an ocean of maple where pancakes and eggs used to be. I gasp, apologize to both the syrup and Janet, put the bottle back, and start slicing off a piece of pancake anyway. No sense in wasting it, and I like sweet foods anyway.

...ick, okay not this sweet.

I make a gagging noise and try to scrape as much syrup to the side as possible. "Yeah, we lived together after the breakup," I continue for Janet. "It's a really long and complicated story. We'd be here all day if I told you."

"Hmm, well you're not the only one in a rush to get out of here," Janet pulled up her sleeve to look at her watch, "You're my last customer of the day. Once you're done, then I'm done."

I frown, "Ah shoot, I'm sorry. I'll eat as fast as I can."

She waved her hand, "Don't worry about it, I don't want you throwing up or anything. Besides, you're not in any rush to get out of here, right?"

"What do you mean?"

She shrugs slowly, "You and this girl. What's the story between you now? What's got you thinking so much?"

"I…" I have to pause for a second to take stock of the situation I've now found myself in. My therapist has made me more comfortable talking about my feelings and problems, but not to complete strangers. Janet seems nice, and I'd do myself more good than harm if I talk about what's on my mind instead of keeping it in. But the thing is…

"I don't know _why _I'm thinking so much," I say with a sigh. "We both have feelings for each other. I want to believe that we're both in better places emotionally, and that that'll keep our feelings from changing in just a few short days. I guess I'm freaking out because I've never _done _something like this before."

And no, of course I'm not just talking about sneaking out of my parents' house the day after Thanksgiving.

"Done what before?" Janet asks.

I take another bite of syrup-soaked pancakes for dramatic effect, and also because the taste is growing on me, "Told someone I'm in love with them, and knowing that I mean it this time."

And for the first time since I got to this diner, Janet smiles. Despite her tiredness, she smiles like this is the sweetest thing she's heard in months. "I know the feeling," she replies. And the way her eyes sort of shift a little bit, I can tell she's thinking back to possibly the first time she'd done something like this. Maybe she sat in a diner similar to this while her own Janet talked to her about relationship troubles.

Maybe everyone should have their own personal Janet.

"Yeah, and it's terrifying. I don't want to mess this up or say something stupid. I wrote her a letter saying what I've wanted to say for a while, but I don't know if she's read it yet. And I-I just want it to be perfect."

"How long has it been since you've seen her?"

I blink, "About four days. I left our place on Monday."

Janet shakes her head with an amused grin, "And how long has she had the letter?"

"Fourteen days, assuming she hasn't read it yet. Oh wow, that doesn't sound like a lot of time now that I've said it out loud."

"Honey, this isn't the 1800s anymore. You shouldn't be waiting for more than two weeks for a response, not even through mail."

"I didn't _mail _it to her, but I know what you're getting at." I continue my longest meal ever, taking another bite. "I'm not upset that she's taking the time to read it, I'm just worried that maybe I gave it to her too late. Maybe she doesn't love me anymore."

My sudden depressing confession is interrupted when Janet snorts and mutters something under her breath. "What was that?" I ask, even as the ridiculousness of what I just told her starts dawning on me too.

"Go talk to her," Janet responds with that classic brevity and bluntness about her that I've grown to appreciate, "Tell her _in person _how you feel. Assumptions are screwing over both of you."

A few noncommittal noises escape my lips before I give up and sigh. "You're right."

"You're damn right I am. Now hurry up with your pancakes so you can get back to your girl." She leaves me to go do waitress stuff, or Janet stuff, or both. And I'm left sitting on my barstool, with a syrupy breakfast in front of me, and answers to questions I didn't know I had.

* * *

It's 9:21 AM when I finally leave the diner. I wonder at first if Janet was just some figment of my imagination, and then I saw her lighting up a cigarette in her car before peeling out of the parking lot.

She was right, all I have to do is tell Anna how I feel. There's nothing I should be afraid of, she's loved me for...gosh, who even knows how long? And I've loved her for probably that same amount of time. There's no way that can change now, right? Especially since the letter tells her exactly what she's wanted to hear.

As I'm driving, my thoughts go back to that day at the pharmacy. When that guy came up to me asking about gifts to buy for a girl who clearly didn't exist, and Anna appeared. I didn't know it until later, but I was kinda hoping she _would _metaphorically save me, and keep me from being a jerk to another poor guy. Even if he did come off as a bit of a creep.

And for a second, when I saw her smiling at me, it felt like we were still together. It felt like Anna, my girlfriend, was here to save me from another person trying to hit on me. Which was rarely a problem when we were together anyway (probably because I stuck to her like a trained puppy). I want to believe that's why I called her "babe" and kissed her on the cheek.

The first time, at least. I kissed her the second time because I wanted to. It felt nice to play pretend.

But maybe now, we won't have to pretend anymore.

I get back to the hotel at 9:40 AM. Anna's usually awake around this time. Unless she had a chocolate porter, in which case she's still out like a light. For some reason that I'm still not sure of, chocolate porters knock her out. I'm not complaining, though, it's like a magic potion for when she's on her period. Which makes them even less stressful.

Eww, let's not think about that right now okay, Elsa?

I sling my bag on my shoulder and drag my luggage towards the front door. A familiar bellhop is by the door and he holds it open for me. He nods his head and says, "What's up, Ms. Stark?"

I smile, "Nothing much Lamar, just coming back home. How are you doing?"

Lamar whistles, "Hell of a lot better since y'all hit that six-month mark." I have a strong suspicion that he placed a bet on how long Anna and I would last in this contest, but I've never outright asked. Besides, it doesn't affect us anyway.

I step through the door and he helps me get my obnoxiously large suitcase through the door. "Thanks," I say to him.

"You need any help?"

"No, that's okay. I've got this." Just like last time. Man, I really have to keep from turning this leaving thing into a habit. "Have a good day."

He says "You too" before walking out the door, and I have a straight shot to the elevator.

Barring any catastrophic failures, there are no more obstacles between me and Anna save for a short ride up to the ninth floor.

* * *

So here I am. Right in front of Room 914. With my bag over my shoulder, and my suitcase by my side. And my keycard in my increasingly sweaty palm. With everything I ever wanted right behind the door.

When I open it...that's it. If she's awake, at least, then I'll tell her everything. Letter or not, it's time for me to stop hiding behind past fears. There will be no more running away, and there will be no more unspoken conversations. There will be Anna and I finally being where we should have been two years ago.

But right as I'm about to put the keycard in, a stupid, simple thought comes to me: $100,000.

If we do this, then it's over. The contest is done because we failed in the one rule that- secretly, selfishly, and subconsciously- I was hoping we were going to break. Could I really do that to Anna? I know how much she needs this money. And of course I could definitely use the money too. I don't want to rely so much on my parents anymore.

So why would I ruin this for her? For both of us?

No.

Hell no.

We can get through this. Somehow, someway, we'll get through this. I'm not comfortable with omitting the truth from Olaf and anyone else that can't know about our relationship. It's what messed Anna and me up in the first place, but I can...I can _try _at least. Even if it hurts, I want this more than the money.

Anna knew the risk too, and she was still able to tell me _again _that she loved me. Before I could even say it once, she said it twice. She wants this too, she's taking this risk too. I have to believe that that means she's choosing me above the money, and I'm doing the same.

"Make this right, Elsa Stark," I tell myself before opening the door.

Aaaaaand she's not here.

At least not in the kitchen or loft. Oh shoot, what if she's still at Rapunzel's place? I didn't think of that!

I sigh, exasperated at myself for building this up so much in my head, and step inside. If she's not here, or still asleep, then I can at least put away my stuff. I had this romanticized storybook way in my head that I thought this would go, but I forgot that real life isn't usually like that. In real life, the timing isn't always perfect.

I walk to my room and unlock my door, placing my suitcase on my bed. Before putting my clothes back, though, I close my door again. It's...I need to calm my head down. And my heart. And I do that best in isolation.

Part of me knows that I could still _try _and knock on her door, but my boldness is quickly deflating so I just do this. Unpack and unwind. I know how to do this pretty well.

I put all my dirty clothes (that I was going to wash on Sunday) in my hamper, hang and fold up the rest, and take my laptop out of my backpack and plug it into the charger. I check my phone and sigh when I realize that this all took less than fifteen minutes.

I decided to take a shower, that helps me think too.

While I'm in there, I snap myself out of my pointless disappointment. The plan doesn't change just because some details had to be scrubbed and flubbed, and besides this gives me more time to figure out what to actually _say _to Anna. And to smell less like diner, and more like the strawberry body wash that she really likes.

It can't be too overly romantic because I've never been like that and she'll probably think I'm making a tacky and hurtful joke. I don't want it to be this super awkward thing too, for crying out loud I've had _years _to figure this out. But it's early in the morning so I don't want to be super serious off the bat either since she won't be fully awake until like 1 PM.

And then I snap out of it and remember what Janet told me: just tell her how I feel. Communicate. There doesn't have to be this big script or anything like that, I just need to tell her exactly what I said in the letter. If she's read it, then it'll be old news to her. And if she hasn't yet, then it'll be new news when she does.

Just tell her how I feel. That's all I have to do.

I step out of the shower, dry myself off, and change into more comfortable clothes. Once I put away my suitcase, I just...stand in the middle of my room with my hands on my hips. The only thing on my schedule today was a heartfelt love confession. "This is ridiculous," I say after shaking my head, "I'm just gonna knock on her door."

I walk over to my door and put my hand on the doorknob. I turn it…

And she's there. She's here.

"Anna," I say wide-eyed, stepping back.

She opens her mouth to speak, I do the same, and yet neither of us can say anything. We're just looking at each other like it's been weeks since we've been together like this. Or years. She's still just as beautiful as I remember, even with strands of hair sticking out in every direction, and half of her shirt tucked into her shorts. Anna is the first to speak, her voice telling me that she just woke up recently, "I-I heard something from your room, and then I heard you speak. You're back?"

I nod, biting my lip. Moment of truth time, Elsa Stark. There's no sense in dragging this out. "Anna, when we talked yesterday, I didn't realize how much I was missing you. It already hurt leaving you on Monday, and I couldn't stand being away from you for any longer."

"You couldn't?" Anna said softly, with a smile that told me I was saying the right things. "Not even for a couple more days?"

"Of _course _not!" Oh dear, my voice was breaking already. Not now, I always hate crying in front of Anna. We just gotta push through. "You...I-I never enjoy life as much than when I get to do it with you. Some of my best memories always have you in them."

"Elsa…" Anna says, and I'm surprised at how much it affects me to hear her say my name again. She relaxes, and I find myself doing the same, even though I thought I was already relaxed.

I place my hands in front of me, clasping them together. "It's okay if you haven't read the letter yet, but I can't...I _won't _hide from the truth anymore."

"I did read it."

Whatever breath I had left in my lungs leaves me. I look at her, and I see tears in her eyes but also the brightest smile I've ever seen from her. A smile so bright that it makes me think this is a dream. But I remember taking a shower and I still have pants on, so I know this is real.

"You…" is all I can say. Anything else I wanted to say...Anna's already read.

Anna nods and repeats herself, stepping towards me and placing her healthy hand on my cheek. "I read your letter."

This feeling, this moment, with she and I in between an open door and her hand on my cheek, is something I could never write myself. Especially because it's surreal just _living _it. For the first time since I met her, I can see clearly what I never allowed myself to see. There's no held-back hatred, no apprehension, no guilt, and no shame. There's just pure torrential joy crashing against those deep-blue ocean eyes.

So what's there left to say? How else can I cap off this romanticized storybook moment other than saying the words I've been wanting to say for so long.

I put one hand on Anna's waist and another on the hand resting on my cheek, and after one shaky breath I say:

"I love you, Anna."

Anna lets out a soft breath, tears start going down her cheeks, and she steps even closer. After a gross, yet endearing and in-character sniffle, she says the words I've been wanting to _hear _for so long: "I love you too."

The weight on my heart crumbles, the colors of the world become much more vivid, and the five feet of distance we've had from each other disappears immediately when I lean forward and kiss her.


	42. Day 224

**Day Two Hundred and Twenty-Four: Game Shows and Tacos**

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a long time, I was busy playing The Last of Us 2.**

* * *

Alright Reinhart, just like we talked about: Tell. Olaf. Nothing.

"So how are you and Elsa doing?"

I shrug, "We're doing just fine. I mean don't hate each other, but we're not like jumping each other's bones either. I don't know, I'd say we're doing pretty goddamn peachy." Already off to a great start.

Olaf does his signature nod and noise, scribbling on his notepad that has two fresh snowflake stickers on it. I wonder if he _does _have some love test like in my dream. Either way, it's best not to find out. The less I get his Relationship Senses tingling (_wow_, that's a gross phrase we should never use again), the better off we'll be. Fortunately, I'm really good at not telling people anything they don't need to hear.

I've been doing it with Olaf for, according to Elsa, like two hundred...something days now. I'm not good with counting, all I know is it's a big number.

And even though I've technically been lying/omitting the truth from Olaf ever since we got here, it feels different this time. It's like I'm starting from week one, even though I know I'm not. I guess it's because I'm not the only one that needs to lie about my true feelings towards my roommate anymore.

Man, I hope Elsa can do the whole "tell Olaf nothing" thing too, I know she doesn't really like lying. And besides, she sucks at it.

But I have faith in her, we talked a lot about this since, you know, _that _day. The one where she came home early. The one where I finally told her I read the letter. The one where she kissed me. The one where I kissed her. The one where we said we loved each other.

A.k.a: the best day of my life.

I didn't know that I would miss kissing Elsa _that _much until it happened. I swear I almost passed out from forgetting to breathe more than once. And I'm pretty sure she did too, I remember her kinda dipping down a little bit. But that might just be because she's taller than me. Or I'm a really good kisser. I like to think it's both.

Where was I going with this? Oh right, checking in with Olaf.

My curiosity gets the best of me and I have to ask, "Hey, this isn't all some weird reverse psychology thing, right? You're not actually waiting for us to fall in love or anything?"

Olaf shakes his head convincingly, "Nope, the contest is exactly as advertised. If you fall in love, you lose the contest."

"Good, because that…" I stop myself before saying "that isn't happening." Even if I'm lying, I can't bring myself to say something that would hurt Elsa if she heard it. I come up with something a little less hurtful and in-character: "...would be stupid."

Olaf pouted, and for some reason it feels out-of-character for him, "I don't think love is stupid. I think it's one of the nicest, warmest feelings someone can ever feel. I read this article once that said love was a 'powerful and strange force'. Personally, I don't think it's strange at all, I feel like it's like having your favorite food every day."

I snort, "If I ate steak everyday, I would go vegan on day ten. Or have a heart attack, whichever comes first."

Olaf nods his head, seemingly convinced, "I can see why that might be a problem. Okay, then what do you think love is like?"

This feels like a trap. I narrow my eyes at him, "Is this a trick question?"

"No, I'm just curious." As if to convince me, he sets the clipboard down and leans forward, hands clasped underneath his chin. Why does he always have that look about him like he's seeing the world for the first time every day? Sometimes I wish I had his nauseating optimism.

But he does bring up a good point, and if it continues to keep him off me and Elsa's trail, then I'll entertain him. What do I think love is like?

I lean forward too but realize that puts me too close to Olaf and I hate the smell of whatever deodorant he's using, so I lean back and hold the pillow to my chest. "I guess uh…" I sigh, "I guess love, for me, is like being on a game show. You've seen a lot of people fuck up when it happens to them, and you think that maybe you could do better and then...well, then it happens to you. And now you've gotta put up or shut up. Do you make it look easy? Do you really _know _what to do? Or are you gonna fuck up the same way everyone else has? And in the end, you either look like an idiot or you win a car- I mean, grow old with your husband or wife or whatever."

And then something happens that I never thought I'd witness: Olaf laughs. It's like this full-body giggle, like he just found the treasure in his backyard that he buried when he was a kid. Oddly enough, it feels pretty in-character for him. "I like that, I never thought of love as a game show before."

"Well then obviously you need to watch more TV."

* * *

_Click click click click_

"No…"

_Click click_

"Ugh, just do what I want you to do. You dick." I knew it would be a bitch to solve the Rubik's cube once I mixed it up, but I didn't think it would be _this _hard. I haven't even gotten more than like five of the same color on one side yet. This is a puzzle for masochists.

My door opens slightly, and Elsa pokes her head in. When she sees me cursing at the cube, she smiles, "Still struggling, huh?"

I snort, "No I _love _not being able to solve something made for ten-year-olds."

She steps inside my room, and not gonna lie it makes me feel really good that she's comfortable around me now. I mean duh, obviously she is because she loves me (holy shit, she _loves _me), and I do miss hearing her knock, but I'll take this over that any day. I don't give that much of a shit, Elsa can come inside anytime she wants.

My room. Come inside my room.

"I don't understand why you don't just look up a guide," she replies.

"I _did_, but once they started talking about algorithms and scenarios and stuff, I got angry and confused and stopped reading." I turn the cube and gasp when I finally get five of the same color on one side, and then my joy is easily snuffed out when I turn it again and it goes back to just three. "Bitch…"

My hopeless puzzle-solving ceases when I feel a weight flop onto my stomach and lower body. I put the cube back on my nightstand and see Elsa nuzzling into my stomach and wrapping her arms around my waist. Her feet are dangling off the bed. After a content sigh, she says "Hi."

I smirk and stroke her hair, loving the way she hums when I do so. "Hi," I say back. "How was your check-in?"

"It was good. I love talking to Olaf, he always has so much to say."

"Well then clearly you and I are talking to two different Olafs."

"You don't like him?"

I don't know what I'm more apprehensive to talk about: the fact that I'm kinda meh about Olaf, or that every time she talks the vibrations and her breath tickle my belly. If I tell her the latter, she'll realize that I'm ticklish and will most likely use that against me. Or would she? I mean the last time she tickled me, I did accidentally punch her. Okay well it was more like a half-punch, half-slap but I still made her nose bleed and I felt guilty for like a week.

Yeah, maybe talking about Olaf is safer.

"It's not that I don't _like _him," I answer, continuing to stroke Elsa's hair, "I just...you know how I am with overly cheery people. They get on my nerves sometimes."

"What about Rapunzel?"

"She's an exception. Besides, no one can be mad at Rapunzel. But with Olaf it's like talking to, I don't know, a snowman that just came to life. Especially with that haircut and that same white shirt he always wears. He's always so happy to see you, and talks to you like he hasn't seen you in months. It's Sunday morning, I'm not ready for that kind of uncontainable joy."

"Hmm," Elsa replies, nuzzling into my stomach even more. Gosh, I really hope she can't feel when my breath hitches for a moment every time she does that. "Well I like him, he's really easy to talk to. And he's harmless, he almost reminds me of my therapist."

"Sure he's harmless," I say with blatant sarcasm, "Even though he holds the fate of our living situation in his hands."

Shit, I can feel Elsa tense up a little. That was definitely the wrong thing to say. I scratch the back of her head, knowing that it's one of her soothing spots, "Sorry, that was...I shouldn't have said that. I know how much you hate lying."

Elsa takes my casted hand and kisses the knuckles on each of my fingers. "I'm okay," she says afterward, "We're okay, don't worry."

I bite my lip, feeling the guilt settle in, "But the whole lying to Olaf thing is still hard for you, isn't it?"

"It's just…" Elsa sighed, "Lying to _anyone _is a bit of a trigger for me. It takes me back to all that time I kept the truth about Aurora from you, and how awful that was for the both of us. It makes me afraid that I'll mess something up again."

This really sucks, I hate seeing Elsa like this.

"Elsa, look at me," I tell her. She has to crane her neck just so that I can see her eyes. It looks very uncomfortable. "Okay maybe just scooch up here with me."

She scoots up, careful not to hit my cast, and lays on the side of the bed that she was in less than twenty-four hours ago. I turn to face her, and I can see the sadness from our past creeping into her eyes again. "You're not messing anything up, and you never will." I place my hand on her cheek and she kisses it, smiling as her body relaxes again, "After everything that happened, you still have me. And you're not gonna lose me, got it?"

Elsa nods and kisses my palm, interlocking her fingers with mine.

I smile, thankful that I'm still good at this whole "being Elsa's girlfriend" thing. Although it helps that everything just comes easier with her. I've never had to second-guess how to make Elsa happy, I just kind of know. It's crazy, and it almost makes me believe in soulmates. You know, if I was one of those gross, sappy romantic types.

Oh right, I'm supposed to be consoling her right now. Oops.

"And look, if at any time you get too uncomfortable with not telling the truth to Olaf, just let me know, okay? I'll tell him we're in love again, and we'll figure everything else out from there. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt." Even if it means losing money that I desperately need. But no, being with Elsa means more to me.

Although I'm not gonna lie, when Elsa shakes her head I let out an internal sigh of relief. "I can do this," she replies, "For you. And for us. I don't want you getting hurt either, I don't want to lose this for us."

I lean in and kiss her forehead, reveling in Elsa humming again, "I have you, Elsa. What else could I want?"

She lets out a giggle that's part joy and part awkwardness, "How about $100,000?"

"That's…" I stop myself and groan, "Fuck, I can't even convince myself I _don't _want that."

Elsa leans in this time, but instead of kissing my forehead, she kisses me on the lips. It's tender and slow, she knows we have all the time in the world now that Olaf's gone. Before it can escalate into anything more (damn it), she pulls away. "We'll see this through to the end," she says, "Don't worry."

And I believe her. Because I want to, and because I have to.

Anyway, that's enough sappy shit for one day. We'll have more time to think and talk about this later, right now we can do whatever we want.

"So, what do you want to do now?" I ask, scooching even closer. Hoping that she takes the hint.

She raises an eyebrow and leans in again to kiss me, this one isn't as slow but is a little more needy. Although "needy" isn't a word I'd use to describe her, it's the only one I can think of. She kisses me again after that. And again. And again. I reciprocate as much as I can, loving the approving noises she makes. I put a hand on her hip, hoping to finally just press our bodies together so we can do what I've been, shamelessly, thinking about for weeks.

And that's when she pulls away with an innocent look and says, "Hungry?"

"Mmm yeah," I say breathlessly as my eyes flutter open. Shit, she was probably talking about food. "I mean uh...what?"

"It's almost 10:30, and we haven't eaten yet," she explains while sitting up with a little bounce. "So why don't we go out and get something?"

I blink, "S-sure. What are you thinking?"

She takes a second to think and then nods, "Tacos. I really want tacos."

I sit up too, slowly considering I only have one working arm- and apparently one working brain cell too- and say, "Yeah. Tacos sound good. Let's go get some?"

"Mmkay! I'm gonna go take a shower."

I bite my tongue before I can ask to join her. Time and place, Anna Reinhart, time and place.

"And you're okay with eating out?"

I let out the most pathetic, high-pitched noise from the back of my throat, like a ghost just passed through me. "Wh-what?"

Unfazed, and already at my door so I can't really tell if the smile means she worded it that way on purpose or not, Elsa says, "Because if you don't want to go out and eat at some place, then we can grab something and come back to the hotel instead."

I have to mentally kick myself just to get my mouth working again. "No yeah no, eating out is fine. At a restaurant! At a restaurant to eat at is okay by me."

"Awesome," Elsa replies. "Alright, gonna go shower. I love you."

"I love you too!"

She leaves my room, and I can hear her humming to herself as she goes back to her own. I flop back onto my bed for a moment, giving my brain to catch up with everything that just happened.

Game shows and tacos, that's what love is about.

Fuck, I'm hopeless.


	43. Day 230

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty: The Newest Normal**

"Is it just me, or do these two sisters have really strong romantic tension with each other?"

Elsa snorts, "I think you're looking too much into it, Anna. Besides, this is a kid's movie."

"A kid's movie with two sisters that are looking for any excuse to start making out with each other."

She slaps my arm and laughs, "Shut up and keep kissing me."

The witty banter stops again for the time being, and we go back to what we were doing before. Honestly I don't even remember which one of us put on the movie in the first place.

Things have, once again, settled into a new normal that I really hope sticks even after we're done with the contest. We both wake up in one of our rooms (typically mine since Elsa likes my bed more, I wonder why), make out with gross morning breath, clean up so we can go to the gym, take a shower, make out with minty clean breath, eat breakfast/lunch at home or wherever we want to go, make out with some added touching (usually from me), and then we do fuck all before settling into one of our rooms to watch a movie and make out some more.

Sundays are a tiny bit different due to check-ins. We obviously sleep in our rooms, but when Olaf leaves we're back on the bed connecting mouths. You would think it would get old after a while, but it never does.

Although, I will admit that _just _making out is driving me a little bit crazy. My hands have gotten as far as her sides, arms, and thighs, but I don't want to go any further until Elsa reciprocates. That's how it usually was with us when we were dating before. If Elsa wanted to go further than kissing she'd show me with her hands, and since I haven't gotten that yet, I'm not going to push her.

But holy _shit_ is it fucking torture sometimes.

Ugh, just be grateful, Anna. Be grateful that you have a girlfriend who loves you very much, is willing to lie for you, and is literally perfect in almost every way. Plus she's an amazing kisser, and- oh hello there.

I pull away from her lips and smirk, "Elsa Stark, did you just grind on me?"

She looks away, and the fact that it's hard for her not to smile tells me that she absolutely did just grind on me. She just moved her shorts against my cookie-themed pajama bottoms. "Shut up. It...it felt right, okay?"

I can barely hear her past the trumpet fanfare in my head. Resting my good hand on her hip, I can't help but tease her more. "Is that why you wanted to be on top this time?"

"I didn't want your wrist to start hurting again!" she protested.

"Babe, I'm getting my cast off in a few days, remember?"

She mumbles something under her breath, coincidentally during a musical number in the movie, all I can really hear her say is "get off". Curious, I stroke her hip and ask, "What's that?"

Elsa pouts but instead of repeating whatever she said, she leans back down and kisses me again, harder this time as if to tell me to shut up. I like assertive Elsa. Kind of a lot. Part of me thinks that maybe that was her way of saying she wants to finally go further, but I'm still not entirely sure. Hands, she has to use her hands. And right now, all she's using her hands for is to hold my hand.

Which is a clever move, because if she wasn't holding my hand, then it'd probably be somewhere on her hips hoping to feel her grind-

Oh fuck, she just did it again.

And as cocky and smug as I'm trying to act right now, I can't help the moan that escapes my lips because it feels _really _fucking good. Elsa's chest pressed onto mine already feels amazing. But to have her hips move against mine, to feel the friction of the clothing between us, it's...damn it, it's already making me wet. I really hope she can't notice.

"Mmph," I say as she grinds her hips again, each time feels better than the last. I don't even know if I can describe how much I missed this. Elsa probably could since she knows more words than I do, but right now she's a little busy- "Fuck!" I say, breaking away from the kiss momentarily.

Elsa presses our lips together again right away, not wanting me to go anywhere. I don't protest, my brain's almost gone blank at this point. My hips want to start moving too, but I want to do something else before that. I _need _to do something else.

I slip my fingers out of her grasp, reach out my hand, and place my hands on Elsa's shoulder, pushing her up.

Her eyes flutter open, there's a veil of lust in her eyes that looks _damn _sexy. We're both trying to catch our breath, but she's the first one to speak.

"What is it?" she asks me. "What's wrong?"

I take one last breath and reply, gently rubbing her shoulder, "Elsa...do you want this? I mean do you want to go farther than we already have?"

"Anna, I…" She doesn't continue, so I do.

"We can wait if you're not ready, but if you _are _ready then just tell me, okay?" Oh my fuck Elsa, please say that you're ready. "_Are _you?"

Elsa bites her lip and looks away, I can tell that she's coming back to herself a little bit. I tell myself that if she says no, then I'll respect that and take the coldest goddamn shower. If she says yes, though, I'm going to rock her fucking world. But then she groans, not the sexy kind, and lays down on me defeated.

"Not yet," she grumbles. "I'm sorry, Anna."

I laugh, grateful for preparing myself for more blue balls, "Heeeeey it's okay. That's why I asked if you were ready."

She wraps her arms around my waist, "I _will _be, trust me. I'll be ready for more, I...I just need a little more time. To get used to all of this again. It's not you, it's me."

"Oh god," I groan, also not the sexy kind, "Don't say that. That's like the most stereotypical break up quote ever."

She laughs, thankfully, even if it does tickle my chest, "Sorry. I hope that didn't freak you out."

"It didn't, don't worry."

"Well good."

"You wanna stop talking about this for now?"

"Yeah, I think that's for the best." Elsa gets off of me and I sit back up. When we're back to sitting and pretending to watch the movie- instead of lying down and pretending to watch the movie- she kisses me one more time and holds my hand. "Thank you for being so patient, I'm sure this has been hard on you."

"Elsa, I have you. Which is what I've wanted the most," I say sternly. "Everything else is just a bonus. And besides, I can still have a party for one while I wait."

She raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean by that?" I lift up both of our hands since she's still holding mine and wiggle my fingers. Two seconds later it clicks and her eyes widen, "O-oh. Well uh...yeah, that's one way to...to party."

I giggle and kiss the back of her hand, "So yeah. We're okay, and we're always going to _be _okay."

Her entire body settles as if she had been holding up this weight since we started with the whole making out thing. Maybe talking about this and not just waiting for her to make a move would have been better, but fuck it we got to where we needed to be in the end. "I love you," she says softly.

"I love you too," I reply with the same tone, placing our hands back on the bed.

She smiles, but not for long before her eyes widen and she says, "Oh, I almost forgot!"

I tilt my head, "What is it?"

"What are you doing for Christmas?"

Ah, I probably should have expected that question. We're already deep into December and I don't expect the world to be ending anytime soon. "Uhhh hopefully spending it with you?"

I don't know why I said that, since I know she loves spending the holidays with her parents. Especially Christmas. She bites her lip, and I can already feel the question coming, "Would you...maybe wanna spend it with me at my parents' place?"

Huh, that wasn't what I was expecting. I thought she was gonna ask permission to ditch me. "Like together? As in you and me as a couple? Or would I have to lie about us?"

Elsa shook her head, "They know about us, actually my mother knew first. The day after Thanksgiving, when I left, she...may have made me promise to make sure you come for Christmas."

I was uneasy at first with the idea of spending time with the family of my once ex-girlfriend. But I realize that if I'm gonna be in this for the long haul (which I am), then it's bound to happen again anyway. And now that I know her mom's rooting for us, or at least it sounds like it, I...huh.

Elsa's eyes widen and she wipes a thumb across my cheek, "Anna, what's wrong?"

"What?"

"You're crying." She gasped, "Oh no, is it too soon? Should I have not asked? I'm so sorry Anna, just forget I said anything."

"No! It's not that it's too soon, I...I guess after breaking up with you, I didn't expect your family to think good things about me anymore." Which is true, but I don't think it's the full reason why I started crying.

Elsa cleans up the last bits of tears around my eyes and cheeks, it's much more intimate than I thought it'd be. "Well, it helped that I've kinda been vouching for you. And they believed me when I said that things were good between us now."

"So they don't hate me?"

She smiles, "My parents don't really hate anyone. I mean sure they roasted you a lot when we broke up to make me feel better, but they don't hold grudges. They know I love you, always have, and they know how happy you make me."

"How can you be so sure that I won't hurt you again?" Part of me thinks that wasn't the best question to ask, but I can't deny that that thought hasn't been going through my mind.

"Because I have faith. And after everything we've been through _this _year? The fact that we can still be together gives me even more faith. And..." Elsa places a hand on the top of my chest, "I know you have a much more forgiving heart than you think you do."

My hand joins hers and I rub my thumb across her wrist. Damn...what else can I say to that other than: "I love you."

"I love you too," Elsa replies.

Ah hell, do this for her. And you already know that her mother makes the best Christmas cookies. "And I'll be glad to spend Christmas with you and your family. Just make sure that your Grandpa Kurgen doesn't ask me why I'm still a lesbian."

Elsa giggles, "Don't worry, I'll have a talk with him."

We settle in and talk about what our road trip plan will be, and how we'll navigate through all her relatives. It's good, and it fits right into this newest normal. Elsa's satisfied at what awaits us in the next few days, and she confesses that she'd been stressing about asking me ever since Thanksgiving. Now, she's able to breathe. But not me, not just yet.

Her stressing might be done, but I've still got one thing to check off before my fateful reunion with the Starks.

Elsa's birthday is in eight days. And I need to make sure it's the best one she's ever had.


	44. Day 239

**Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Nine: Happy Birthday, Elsa**

**C/W: Birthday sex. If that makes you squicked out, then just don't read the part of the chapter when they get back to the hotel.**

**Don't say I never do nothing for y'all.**

* * *

It's the final stop before the Christmas madness begins, and the final time I'll have Elsa truly all to myself for at least a couple of days. Which doesn't _sound _like a long time, but considering that love has made me want to spend every waking moment with her, it may as well be a couple of years.

But today's not about me, it's about Elsa.

After all, it _is _her birthday.

And yet selfishly, I can't help but think back on the events of _my_ birthday. Back when things were less than okay between us, back when I didn't know what I wanted from her. Back when I didn't start the morning by making her pancakes.

Not that I used to do that before, but today's a special occasion and she's such a sucker for breakfast in bed. Even if it's just a microwavable sandwich from a gas station.

Elsa opens her room, probably because she smells the breakfast of champions and hangovers, raises an eyebrow at me and smiles, "Anna?"

"Ah shit, I knew I wouldn't time this right." I turn down the heat and slide the pancake off of the frying pan and onto the plate. "Could you like...go back to bed for ten more minutes?"

"I've been up for half an hour."

Of course she has. I sigh and wipe my hands on my apron that I bought for just this occasion. It's one of those novelty ones that says "Kiss the Cook" with a lipstick mark covering the chest area. I stand in front of her with my hands on my hips, "Whatever, I'm checking breakfast off my birthday list anyway."

"What birthday list?"

"The list of things I've planned for your birthday," I explain, even though I feel like I shouldn't have to. "You do know today's your birthday, right?"

"Of course I knew, I…" Elsa leaned on the counter, "We just started dating again, I didn't expect you to make a big deal out of it or plan anything."

I scoff, "We hit the pause button, Elsa, not the reset button. And if you think I'm not going to do something special for my amazing, beautiful, wonderful, smart and sexy girlfriend's birthday, then you're an idiot. A sexy idiot, but still an idiot."

That gets an early morning laugh out of her. Next thing I know, she's wrapping her hands around my waist and kissing me. And not a quick one either, it's long and tender and I can feel her tongue swipe across my lips. I like this Elsa, kind of a fucking lot.

_I _have to be the one to separate us, almost tripping over nothing in the process. "Hey don't try to jump ahead on the list."

"You have kissing on the birthday list?"

"...more than once, yeah. But breakfast comes first, madame, so sit your cute butt down and grab some pancakes. I've already set out the syrup and whipped cream, once I fry up the last couple then I'll join you."

Elsa giggles, "Yes ma'am. Oh by the way, you've got something on your face."

I paw at my face awkwardly and look at my hand to see nothing. "What is it?" I ask.

"Me."

She leans in for another kiss before I can tell her how bad of a line that was, and how she should never use it again.

* * *

It should come as a surprise to no one that Elsa thrives in the winter, like a snow leopard or some other cute animal that won't bite off your throat. It also shouldn't come as a surprise that she's graceful and charming, already adding to the long list of things about her that are goddamn attractive. So what's the one thing that combines Elsa's mastery of tact and grace, and her love of snow and ice and all that?

Ice skating, duh.

She's loved to ice skate ever since she was a kid and learned by slipping and sliding on a small, frozen lake next to her house. She even knows how to do that thing where you launch up and spin around before touching down onto the ice again. Ice skating is easily one of her top ten favorite things of all-time.

You know who _doesn't _like ice-skating? Eeyup, this uncoordinated bitch.

You would think learning how to fight would teach me how to be a little more graceful, but no. I still trip on air and hate whenever I'm off my feet in any way, when people try to pick me up they get a busted nose for their efforts. The best memory I have from this accursed sport for angels is when I fell on my butt and Elsa helped "make it better" afterward. That was a hell of a night. Anyway yeah, I hate ice-skating.

But I love Elsa more than I hate ice-skating, which is why I've taken her to Central Arendelle Park and am now handing her a rented pair of ice skates. She bounces a little in her seat as she takes them and begins to slip them on.

"Are you _sure _you don't wanna be on the ice with me?" she asks, and I can tell in her eyes that she really wants me to.

I hold up my newly un-casted hand, "Sorry babe, I don't want to risk it. Besides, I want you to feel like a princess or a ballerina or whatever. I don't want you worrying about picking me up after I fall on my ass for the fifth time."

Elsa sighs and pouts at me, having already put on the skates. "Fine, but after this then we're doing something that _you _want to do."

"What? No, today's your birthday. It's not about what I want to-" She interrupts me with a quick peck on the lips. Yeesh, am I giving off a strong "kiss me" vibe today or something?

"What I want for my birthday is for both of us to enjoy it. Okay?"

I can tell she's not budging on this, and it's a rare sight to see Stubborn Elsa. I roll my eyes and groan, "Fine. Now go out there and have some fun."

That's all the permission that Elsa needs, apparently, and she walks(?) on to the rink like the skates are just a part of her feet. I can feel her body settle when the blades hit the ice, and she gives me one last grateful smile before gliding away. I sit on the bench like a dumbass for a second before standing up and leaning on the railing to watch my girlfriend command the rink like a sexy, majestic ice fairy.

She always looks so at peace when she's doing the things she loves. I can't help the carefree smile on my face when I watch her skating with her hands clasped behind her back. I can tell she's humming to herself too.

The only thing that even remotely sours this moment is the fact that we're not alone. Which, of course, it's a public park in the busiest part of the city. And this close to Christmas means there are more people here than usual, but the other voices and conversations soon become white noise to me.

Which is why I'm legitimately startled when I feel a tiny mitten pat my arm. "What the fu-" I stop myself when I realize I'm looking at a little girl decked out in all-pink winter gear, making her black hair stand out even more. I try again, a little nicer, "Hi! What is it?"

"You keep staring at that girl over there," she says, pointing at Elsa. "Do you know her?"

Part of me wants to tell this kid to go away, but apparently that'd be rude. She can't be more than eight years old, she's got a whole life to live before people start telling her to fuck off. Besides, it's Christmas, and Elsa wouldn't approve of me making a little girl cry this close to Christmas. _And _on her birthday.

I nod, twitching my lip up slightly to form a smile, "Yeah, she's my girlfriend."

The little girl tilts her head, "Oh. Well your girlfriend's really good at skating."

"Yeah, she's been doing it as a kid, and today's her birthday so I wanted to take her ice-skating because she loves it so much." Elsa catches my eye and waves at me, skating her way towards me.

"How old is she?"

"Twenty-six."

The little girl's brown eyes widen, "That's _so _old!"

I snort, "Mmhmm, yeah that's...that's pretty old." God, I can't wait until this kid gets to my age and see what she thinks about being old. "I'm dating a grandma."

"You are?! Wow!"

Thankfully, Elsa's now here and will keep me from further messing with this kid's brain. She gracefully slides to a halt in front of me and kisses me on my cheek. "What's going on, love?"

I shrug and gesture to the little girl. "Ah nothing, I'm just talking with...uh…" Shit, I never actually got her name.

Either the little girl notices this or she hates the sudden silence, either way she stretches out her hand to Elsa and says, "I'm Lily!"

Elsa shakes her hand, and her pitch raises a little to make her sound sweeter and more approachable than she already is, "Hi Lily, I'm Elsa! And this is my girlfriend, Anna."

"I know. She said today was your birthday, and she said you're a grandma." I try and fail to stifle a laugh and look away, knowing that she's gonna make me pay for that comment very soon.

"Oh she did?" Elsa asked innocently. "And do _you _think I'm a grandma?"

Lily shrugs, "I don't know. I have a grandma and she looks older than you. She has grey hair and wrinkles. Your hair is blonde, and I don't see any wrinkles."

"She covers them with makeup," I add to my own detriment.

"Anna!"

I laugh, Lily laughs, and Elsa stands there embarrassed, probably counting down the seconds until she and I are alone again.

It doesn't take long, apparently. Lily's mom calls her back and this girl straight out of a cheesy Christmas movie leaves us be. When she's out of earshot, Elsa looks at me with a rare frown.

"Not funny!" she says, but the way she almost smiles tells me that I'm not in as much trouble as I should be.

* * *

When it turns out that all I wanted for Elsa's birthday was a nice lunch date, I can tell she isn't expecting it. Her expression is curious, her body is relaxed but full of energy at the same time, and also because she tells me so.

"I wasn't expecting this," she says, passing her menu to the waiter.

I can understand her surprise, though. This restaurant is much more posh than anywhere I'd choose to eat at. There's chandeliers, cloth napkins, and the only steak on the menu is pathetically small. And due to the dress code, we had to go back to the hotel to get into nicer clothing. But I wanted to go somewhere that looked pretty and important, because Elsa's pretty important to me.

Also, it'd be stupid of us not to splurge on some fine dining while we still had our black cards. I hope they don't look at the credit card statements and start putting some pieces together.

Still, my curiosity gets the better of me and I ask, "What _were _you expecting?"

She shrugs, "Something impulsive, I guess. Like going to a bakery to score me a free cake, or picking a snowball fight with some kids at the park."

Admittedly, those sound like much more fun ideas, but I shake my head. "We can do that any other time. Today I wanted to treat you like a princess or whatever. It's the least I could do."

And she really does look like a princess, with the modest icy-blue dress she's wearing with a strap that curves along her left shoulder. I also wanted to feel pretty, so I push my hatred for dresses aside and put on this neutral black dress that makes me look like I'm in the running for a pageant. All that's missing is my sash and tiara.

"Anna, I told you that you don't have to make up for anything."

"Elsa, this isn't about me feeling guilty. You wanted to do something that I wanted to do, remember? Well, what _I _want is to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Besides, getting a reservation for this place was a _bitch_. So we're eating here whether you like it or not."

Elsa rolls her eyes and smirks, and there's a noticeable blush on her cheeks amplified by the admittedly top-notch room lighting. "Well thank you, this is already one of the best birthdays I've ever had."

And damn if that comment doesn't make me feel like a fucking superstar.

"So how are you really feeling about tomorrow?" she asks.

And damn if that question doesn't bring me crashing back down to Earth. Of course I can't dodge the question since it's her birthday, and she'll know exactly how I'm feeling soon enough anyway. I just hope she doesn't hate my answer.

I sigh, "I'm scared shitless, Elsa. I still want to spend Christmas Eve with you, and I'm not gonna back out of this because I'm gonna have to talk to them at some point anyway, but still...I'm terrified of what they think of me." Damn, I really hope they don't kick us out because I'm cursing.

While I look around to make sure we're not bringing too much attention to ourselves, Elsa takes my hand in hers and pats it, "Anna, I can assure you that my parents have nothing bad to say about you. They don't hold grudges, remember? And no matter what happens, I'm going to take your side. They haven't spent the last two hundred and thirty-nine days with you, _I _have."

Again with the amazing counting skills. I smudge my thumb across my eyes tosee if I'm crying- I'm not, thank god- and pout, "All those days haven't been good, though."

"Can you honestly remember one year you've had where every day was a good day?"

"Uh yeah, the first year we were together," I answered almost immediately.

The blush is even more noticable now. "Aww! Well then we can do that again, we can have a lot more years with a lot more good days. _Including _the next couple of days. And if the conversation isn't so good, then I'll find a way to make the rest of the day better. That's why you and I work so well together: we can make the most out of any day, with very little effort."

I don't have the heart to tell her how much effort I'm actually putting into making sure nothing gets fucked up today.

"Especially Christmas," I add, feeling a little more at ease. "No one's ever sad on Christmas."

Elsa hisses, "Actually, the Christmas season is one of the most depressing times of the year for a lot of people."

I smack the back of her hand, "Hey, no being a smartass on your birthday."

* * *

We planned on taking a stroll around the town after lunch, but the cold weather meant that only one of us was going to enjoy it. And it definitely wasn't going to be me. So, we hopped back into the car and decided to head back to the hotel, snuggle up, and make fun of Christmas movies for the rest of the day. It was a cute plan to end a great day.

Or, at least, that _was _the plan.

I was about to go into my room to change when she pulled me away from my door and closer to her, laying her hands on my hips.

My hands rest on her arms and I eye her curiously, "Everything okay?"

"Everything's just perfect," she replies with an admiring smile, looking at me like I'm an award-winning novel of hers. "Just wanted to hold you, that's all."

The way she begins to sway side-to-side tells me that she wants a little more than that. I trail my hands up her arms until I've clasped them behind her neck, and we slow dance together in front of her door.

"It's the dress, isn't it?" I ask her. "You find me totally irresistible when I dress up."

"It's your _everything_, Anna," she replies. "The dress, your body, your smile, your kind heart...you're perfect in every way. And every part of you is irresistible."

Damn the lack of space between us, I can't hide how red my face gets from hearing Elsa speak so honestly. Figures I try to be stupid and joke around, and she hits me with the heart-twisting compliments. "That's...that's good to know," I respond meekly. Like an idiot.

Elsa hums in agreement and pulls me closer to her, resting her head on my shoulder. "Best birthday ever," she whispers into my ear. "Thank you, my love."

I don't think it's healthy for my face to be this warm.

In retaliation, I try to be as cute and affectionate as Elsa and scratch the back of her head gently. "Anything for you," I tell her. "And your birthday's not over, remember? We've still got half a day left."

Elsa giggles and pulls away from my neck, "Yeah, we should get changed. I love you."

"I love you too," I respond, sealing that love with a kiss.

And then another.

And another...

Next thing I know, we're on her bed. Our dresses are off, and we haven't seen this much skin on each other since that chicken fight at the pool. And Elsa's on top of me, and we're still kissing.

She's holding my hands above my head, her bare stomach is pressed against mine, her lips attack mine with a neediness I've felt from her before. Our movements are quick and intense- and fuck she's grinding on me again! And since we're in nothing but our underwear I can feel more, I _want _more.

But does Elsa want more? I don't want to go any further unless she's comfortable with it.

I part the lustful haze away for a second and put a hand on top of her bra-clad chest, holding her up for just a moment. The material's thin, my fingertips want to feel more. She's breathing heavy above me, her eyes are searching for an answer on my face for anything she might have been doing wrong. Not wanting to waste any more time, I ask her, "Elsa...do you want-"

Elsa places the hand that's on her chest down onto her waist, and she speaks with unblinded confidence: "Love me, Anna."

And that's all I need to hear.

I use the hand on her waist to nudge her over, flipping our positions so that now I'm on top. I mimic the same movements she was doing to me, gripping her hands over her head and pressing my...well top of my breasts to the bottom of hers. Curse our height difference, even if it is only by a couple of inches.

It doesn't take long for my lips to travel further down. I trail kisses along her jawline, down her neck which causes her to lose her breath more than once, along the tops of her breasts, before ending right at her stomach. Part of me wants this to last- after all, who knows how long it's been for Elsa- and I've literally been dreaming about this moment for weeks, so I shouldn't be so hasty. Part of me wants to see more skin, see the spots that have only existed in my memories until now. But at the same time...I've literally been dreaming about this moment for _weeks_, so why the fuck would I want to put this off for any longer?

I settle for an awkward compromise where I keep my hands on her waist, while I kiss and even lick around Elsa's abdomen until I hear her gasp, "Anna!" When I look up, her eyes are closed and her mouth is open. Holy shit, I've barely done anything.

When she doesn't feel my mouth on her anymore, Elsa opens her eyes and looks down. "What is it?" she asks, catching her breath.

I shake my head, not knowing what else to say other than, "You're beautiful."

Elsa doesn't have a response to that, other than to smile at me with pure lays her head back down, and I get back to work.

I travel lower while my fingers hook into the waistband of her surprisingly lacy panties (did she know this was gonna happen?), until they're completely off. I stop when I'm right above where she wants me to be. And I move up.

Because I want to see her.

She blinks just as I place a finger on her chin, tilting her head towards me. Before she can ask about what's going through my head this time, I say to her softly, "Look at me."

Elsa does so, looking at me with curious and needy blue eyes. I take my finger off her chin, running my hand through her hair before putting it on the back of her neck. I want to make sure she doesn't look away, I want to see everything. Without hesitation, I use my free hand to move down her body until my fingers make contact with her folds.

And she bucks her hips and moans.

Her eyes go half-lidded, still looking at me, her lips curl into a smile as that shakey, breathy noise escapes them. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. And I swear at the tail end of the moan, I hear her say my name.

It's exhilarating feeling her underneath my fingertips again, I stroke her vagina more, reveling in the fact that this is inally happening. My middle finger glides along her slit like it's also an ice-skater, if the ice was a vagina.

...nope.

That's a disgusting, unsexy thought. Why would you do that to yourself? Can we just focus on making Elsa cum?

Anyway yeah, it surprises me how slick my middle finger is, she's already wet. Her hands lay on top of her breasts as she continues to look at me, her face alternating between blissful and lustful. Elsa wants this so bad, she wants me to do more. She doesn't even need to ask.

I circle my index finger around her hole as her breathing hitches again. I'm about to ask her if she's ready, but she nods her head before I can. Getting her impatient consent, I sink my finger inside and hearing Elsa let out a breathy moan almost makes me moan too.

"Oh," she whines. "Oh Anna, yes."

I keep my finger inside, familiarizing myself with the area again (why are my thoughts so _un_sexy?), and not even thinking about pulling out until I hit spots that I vaguely remember. Some make her twitch, but for the most part Elsa's just breathing and smiling with her eyes closed.

When I do pull out, her hips raise slightly and she gasps, "_Yessss…_"

I'm not ashamed to admit that seeing her face, hearing her voice, and just being able to feel her again is making me wet too. I don't expect any reciprocation, it's _her _birthday after all. I enter her again, this time setting a slow pace, bringing my finger and out. Elsa's breaths almost sync up to my movements until I decide to speed up just a little bit.

A few seconds or minutes (shit, maybe even hours I don't know) later, and Elsa says two more words: "Another. Please."

I oblige, and add my middle finger for the birthday girl. She moans, and I slow my pace just a little so she can adjust to the change. It's tighter, obviously, with two fingers but it feels better. For me, I mean. I can't really explain it, I guess it makes me more confident in my movements? Now that I have two fingers to work with, I can pleasure Elsa even more.

I sink my fingers all the way in and curl my fingers, tapping my fingertips against her walls. It's one of my favorite moves because it _always _drives Elsa crazy. This time is no exception. As my fingers feel around inside her, she suddenly sits up- helped by my hand on her neck- and kisses me passionately, swirling her tongue around mine and moaning into my mouth. But her response doesn't stop there.

With one hand on the bed gripping the sheets to steady herself, she quickly moves her free hand down my stomach and inside my panties. Holy _fuck._

Her fingers feel better than I remember, and I almost fall forward when I feel her moving up and down my vagina. Oh shit, I'm _so much _wetter than I thought I was.

"E-Elsa," I gasp. "Holy shit."

"Didn't expect that?" she said breathlessly.

"No, I- fuck, please don't stop!"

"Never."

"I love you," I pant. "So fucking much."

Elsa groans, "I love you too."

I really don't think I'm gonna last long, which is embarrassing but at this point I don't care because I'm trying to focus all of my attention on Elsa. I'm moving my fingers faster, like this is some competition about who can make the other orgasm first. I _think _I have the advantage because I've been working her over like crazy, but I forget the important detail that she's _Elsa _and every little thing she does is magic.

Soon enough she's matching my pace, and even in this awkward position-where we're kind of holding each other up in a way that seems to defy physics- she finds a way to curl her fingers inside of me. Still with my panties on.

I let out the most pathetic, needy moan I've ever made, pressing my forehead to hers. We're both breathing heavy, fingers inside of each other and eyes drowning in lust and love. We both need this, so fucking bad. It's her birthday, and I wanted to do this for her and make her feel good, but fuck do I want her to just make me cum too.

I'm getting to the point where the pleasure is about to boil over, and that's when Elsa finally tells me, "I-I'm gonna cum."

But I can't celebrate, because instinctively I respond with, "Me too."

"You are?"

I bite my lip and nod my head. She leans forward for another kiss as we both work our fingers in and out, waiting to see who'll break first. It's hot, it's beautiful, it's messy, and it's the best fucking feeling in the entire world.

When we both moan against each other's mouths, signaling our releases, I honestly can't tell who orgasms first. But it wouldn't surprise me if we did this together too.

* * *

It's...I don't know, half an hour later? My head works as much as my legs right now.

We cleaned up, changed the sheets, and took a shower. We're back in her room, moving on with our original plan of watching/roasting Christmas movies, but right now neither of us are paying much attention. I'm resting my head on her lap as she strokes my hair and talks with her mom on the phone.

They're talking about...something. Maybe about tomorrow, maybe about me, maybe about memories of Elsa when she was still pooping in diapers. I don't have the energy to eavesdrop much, all I can really do is make sure I've ticked everything off Elsa's birthday list.

I'm pretty sure I did everything.

And even though it's her birthday, I can't help but feel like I got a gift of my own too: the gift of a clear mind. For the first time in a long time, I don't feel guilty about the past, I don't feel the weight of my mistakes pressing down on me and this relationship. Of course I'm still scared shitless about meeting her parents again, but I have no doubts about where me and Elsa are at.

Besides, if I ever do start having doubts about that, all I have to think about is today. All I need to think about is how Elsa, after we've both collapsed onto the bed and catch our breath- sweaty and spent- parts some strands of her hair away from my face and kisses my forehead.

All I need to think about is the way she whispers, "Thank you."

And that'll be enough.


	45. Day 241

**Day Two Hundred and Forty-One: Christmas Eve**

**A/N: Yes ladies and gentlemen, it is time to spread some Christmas cheer...in August. Goes to show how much planning went into this story. **

* * *

I hate mornings, I always have. I mean I know that's already been established like a million times, but fuck it you're gonna hear it again. I used to set my alarm half an hour early on school days so that I could lay in bed, regretting every life decision I'd made up to that point. One time, before my mom walked out on us, we went camping and literally every morning my dad woke me up by picking me up in my sleeping bag and threatening to throw me into the lake.

What's even worse than waking up in the morning? Waking up before the goddamn sunrise. That's not even fair, I have to be awake and alive before the big gassy ball in the sky? If you even try to wake me up before like 10 AM I might bite your fucking head off. And it'll be messy.

So imagine the amount of love I must have for Elsa to let her wake me up at _four in the morning_ to drive three hours to her parents' place?

And all she had to do was give me a travel pillow and a kiss on the cheek.

We drag ourselves and our suitcases into the elevator, sharing it with a hungover businessman, walk into the lobby that feels colder than usual and almost bump into the giant fucking Christmas tree, pack our bags in the trunk of Elsa's car, and then step inside. She turns on the heat and puts on this jazz station she likes listening to from time to time. I'm glad she remembers that jazz puts me to sleep. And fortunately for me, she'll be doing most of the driving so I _can _go back to sleep. So...yeah I guess the bitching was kinda for nothing.

Before I pass out again, I mumble "I love you" to her.

"I love you too," she replies softly.

I dream about meeting her parents, which seems a bit counterproductive, I'm pretty sure they set me on fire with a flamethrower. Here's hoping that the real-life interaction is less...violent. When I wake up, the sun's barely peeking through the forest. And since you have to be pretty far up north to see the forest, I know that we're gonna hit her parents' town soon.

It sounds like Elsa's changed the music and plugged in her phone so she can listen to her playlist. I shift around and make a bunch of weird grunts and groans to let her know that I'm awake.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she says with a chuckle.

"Guh…" I respond. My eyes feel insulted by the sunlight, and I know I'm gonna need some real sleep when we get to the house, but I'm awake enough to carry a conversation and possibly drive this last bit in case Elsa wants a break too. "How are you?" I say, almost slurring the words out.

"Doing just fine," Elsa replies. "If you want to go back to sleep, then you can. We've still got maybe half an hour left."

"I'm okay." Besides, half an hour isn't enough time for me to fall back asleep and enjoy it. "But could we stop to pee? And get coffee?"

Elsa comes from a long line of "morning people". If I want to keep up with whatever conversation her parents want to have with me, then I'm gonna need that caffeine boost to stay alert. "Sure, I need to get gas anyway," she says. I use the energy I've been storing up since waking to flip over and flop my newly de-casted hand on her shoulder. I mumble out something that's supposed to sound like "I love you", she squeezes my hand gently.

* * *

We merge onto an exit and stop at a gas station. While Elsa's putting gas in the car, I head inside to do my business and get myself a black coffee, and a cup of tea for Elsa.

"You're supposed to keep the leaf bag thingie in the water, right?" I ask her. "I literally know nothing about tea."

Elsa takes the unexpected gift from me with a warm smile. "You did just fine, Anna. Thank you." She plants a kiss on my forehead that sends tingles down my whole body. How dare she find new ways to make me feel things.

We're back on the road soon after that, and it's not long until we hit those familiar spots that I hadn't seen in a long time. There's the vast orchard off the right side of the highway, the stone welcome sign with freshly-planted flowers in front, the local businesses now adorned with cheesy Christmas decorations, Elsa's old elementary school where she got awards for attendance and her short stories, and the swingset we sat on while talking about the craziness of our relationship. All these memories feel like a lifetime ago.

We're maybe five minutes out from the house when Elsa turns to me and asks, "Still nervous?"

I laugh so awkwardly that it gives me away immediately. "Not as much," I respond, which is actually true. "The dreams about them murdering me are getting less terrifying."

Elsa shook her head amused, "They're _not _going to kill you. If it was something bad, I would know. My mother's terrible at keeping secrets. And you already know that I'm going to talk all about how much of a sweetheart you've been."

I gag, "Never _ever _put me and 'sweetheart' in the same sentence again."

She shrugs, "I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true."

We pull into a sidestreet and the suburban energy hits me like an unbaked casserole. There are kids having snowball fights in their front yard, middle-aged moms power walking in yoga pants and parkas, and giant inflatable snowmen next to _actual _shitty looking snowmen. There's way too much life going on at 7 AM. And of course, at the end of a cul de sac is our destination.

The house looks smaller than I remember it. And I notice they finally fixed the gate to their backyard. The Christmas lights are alternating green and red, but all I can focus on is the red. Like they're warning lights telling me I'm not welcome here.

But that's ridiculous, right?

Goddamn it, I really hope this was the right thing to do.

Elsa parks the car in the driveway, next to her dad's truck, and reaches over to move a strand of hair away from my face- when did that get there? "It's going to be okay," she says softly. "You have nothing to worry about, trust me."

I kiss her knuckles and smile. "Okay," I say back.

We get out of her car and unload the trunk. While I'm pulling out my suitcase, I hear the front door open and, well, there they are: Agnarr and Iduna Stark. I swear they were royalty in a past life, even though they've said otherwise. Agnarr's still rocking that thick, killer moustache and his graying hair is the only indication that I haven't seen him in years. Iduna, well, one look at her and you can tell where Elsa gets her good looks from, despite the fact that she's a brunette and her daughter's a blonde. I don't know anything about genetics, so I just accept this as normal.

Elsa sets down her bag and runs to give her parents a hug, it's a scene I can't ever imagine happening with my own. The fact that my dad hasn't even _tried _to contact me about Christmas is proof of that.

Whatever.

I finish unloading the trunk and close it as Elsa gets all sappy and loving with her family. We've only brought a bag and suitcase each, I can easily drag all of this into the house. But Elsa comes back because of course she's not gonna leave this all to me. Unexpectedly, her parents come to help us too.

"Anna, it's good to see you again," Agnarr says with his deep and slightly gravelly voice, stretching out his hand for me to shake it. Or at least, a normal person would see it as a handshake. But I'm currently running off caffeine and nervous energy, so of course I think he's asking me to hand him a bag. So, of course, I hand him mine.

His eyes go wide, "Oh, I was actually wanting to shake your hand. But this works too."

"Oh my fu- dang it, I'm _so _sorry, Mr. Stark," I say mortified. "Here, let me just take that back."

He doesn't look mad, but maybe he's broiling his hatred behind those green eyes. But he doesn't give me back my bag either, he just puts it over his shoulder. "No, it's okay, Elsa told us about your wrist so I'm glad to help. Come on, let's go inside."

Agnarr walks away, alongside his wife, and I make a shooting gesture against my temple while looking at Elsa. She rolls her eyes and takes my hand, leading me into the house with her.

* * *

I didn't need another cup of coffee, I need more sleep and having more caffeine would be counterproductive. But I'm so scared of disappointing Elsa's parents, that when Iduna asks me if I want some, I feel like I have to say yes. So now I'm sitting at their kitchen table, with Elsa right next to me holding my hand, her parents in front of us, and coffee in one of Elsa's old university mugs.

And I know it's Elsa's because Iduna _always _pours me coffee in this cup, and told me about how excited Elsa was to bring it home after her first semester. It's adorable. She's adorable. Elsa, not Iduna.

I mean...I don't know, like when it comes to middle-aged women Iduna's got really cute facial features, like these big doe eyes and a smile that makes me feel safe and comfortable. So...like am I allowed to call someone older than me "adorable"? Am I allowed to call my girlfriend's mom "adorable"?

Where am I going with this?

Iduna saves me from my internal rambling when she asks, "How have you been, Anna?"

I blink, not entirely sure of where to start. I guess the best place is where I'm at now, without getting too depressing. "Uh...g-good! I- yeah, I'm doing just fine. I've been with Elsa, I mean obviously, and she's helped to just keep my head on straight. And I was working at a diner before the craziness with my hand happened. But other than that, yeah it's been great. I've been great. Elsa's been great, obviously. I think I already said that."

They're giving me a look that I've seen too many times from them. And I used to think it was pity- like "Let's all feel bad for the girl who can't hold down a job"- but now that I know better, I can see that it's sympathy. Which of course makes me feel even _more _guilty for resenting them about something I misunderstood.

"We're glad to hear that," Iduna replies, and I believe her. "I know this might be hard to believe, but we were worried about you after the breakup. And to know that you've been okay is such a relief."

I look to Elsa and raise an eyebrow, she squeezes my hand nods. "Um...you do know that _I _was the one that did the breaking up, right? You're telling me that you didn't hate my guts afterward?" I know that Elsa told me they didn't, but I need to hear it for myself.

Agnarr shakes his head, "We were worried for the both of you. From what we saw, and everything Elsa told us, you two cared for each other deeply. And you never struck us as someone that would do anything malicious toward our daughter. Whatever tore you apart before, it had to have taken a toll."

"It did…" I say absentmindedly before shaking my head, "But that's in the past now, and we've worked through it. Mr. and Mrs. Stark, I love your daughter. I love Elsa. My own anger and unsolved issues fu...messed things up for us before, but that's not going to happen again."

"Anna, you don't need to make any promises to us, and you don't need to convince us of anything. We're not mad at you, and we don't hold a grudge."

"I don't? But then…" Why am I here?

"Being a detective means you get really good at reading faces," Agnarr explains, rubbing the stubble along his jawline. "I could tell the second you stepped out of the car- and handed me your bag- that you're a different person now."

"Is it a good different?" I ask pathetically.

"It's very good," Iduna replied. "We didn't call you here this early to interrogate you, or to ask you to beg us for forgiveness. We wanted you two here earlier before the Christmas Eve craziness started so we could have a heart-to-heart without anyone else around. _And_...to welcome you back into the family."

"You...what?"

I look at their faces, which is kinda pointless since I'm not as good at reading faces as Agnarr. I guess I'm waiting for them to burst into laughter and tell me to fuck off, but it...it's not happening? Those words, as crazy as I think they sound, are genuine. And I look to Elsa, one of the only people whose faces I _can _read, and not only is she smiling but there's tears forming in her eyes. This is real, this is happening.

It's a happy fairytale ending, one hundred-something days before I expect it.

In a voice that's too strained and weak from stupid emotions, I say, "You really _don't _hate me?"

Iduna shakes her head, "We never did."

Family: a word that's been tainted by the people that had the audacity to raise me as nothing but an afterthought. I didn't think it'd mean as much to me anymore until Iduna said it, and re-welcomed me back into theirs.

I don't want to cry, goddamn it I _really _don't want to cry, so I do the first thing that comes to mind and take a long drink from my still-hot coffee mug. It burns my throat, and I almost cough all over Agnarr. Luckily I'm able to cover my mouth and let the heat escape my mouth. "Bad idea," I cough out. But now I can blame the tears on almost choking to death.

Elsa rubs my back and says, "Why did you do that?"

I hiss and give her a pained smile, "Because I _really _like coffee?"

* * *

That moment gives a good enough start to bring things back to normal, and make things feel less sappy.

After eating breakfast and telling them a little bit more about the nicer moments of living at the hotel, Elsa and I finally settle into her childhood bedroom and I get some more much-needed sleep.

When I wake up, it's because the laughter, foot stomping and Christmas music becomes too loud to sleep through. Slightly familiar faces have filled the entire kitchen and living room area, and it'd be more overwhelming had Elsa not immediately found me and guided me through the mess. As I expected, some relatives didn't even remember me or made a backhanded remark about the breakup, but for the most part everyone was almost as welcoming as Agnarr and Iduna were.

Although, that may have just been the Christmas cheer and the societal pressure to be happy and nice no matter what for the whole month.

I stick to Elsa's side like a dog's annoying younger sibling. Of course she doesn't mind me tagging along especially since every time we stumbled into a conversation, we became the main focus. I can't remember how many times I retold the story of how Elsa and I met. Her annoying cousins seemed to have mellowed out this year too, only two of them asked if I had games on my phone and I got to have a fun conversation about lesbianism with a thirteen year-old punk.

Unfortunately, I couldn't stay glued to Elsa forever. When she got dragged over to the piano to sing some songs with one of her aunts, I was now on my own. I easily could have joined them, but I'm kinda self-conscious about my singing and I don't like doing karaoke when sober.

It looks like I can either have a snowball fight with the kids, or go in the backyard and drink some beers with Agnarr and the other men. I know, however, that I won't show mercy to the kids and will probably get in trouble when I start chucking snowballs at their heads, and it's still too early for Elsa to see me drunk again. So I go with Secret Option C: help Iduna in the kitchen.

She's sifting powdered sugar on this dessert that's a bunch of rings stacked on top of each other, I forget the name. "You need some help?" I ask.

Iduna smiles at me and makes a noise, but then stops herself. I'm thinking that she was about to say no out of politeness. "Actually yes I would," she answers and points to a cutting board next to the sink. "Would you mind chopping up those vegetables for me? Is your wrist well enough for that?"

"Of course," I say, moving my hand around to prove that. "And I'm sure chopping stuff will make for good physical therapy."

Ah, it's onions. I picked the worst time to be nice.

When Iduna comes back from setting the dessert on the dinner table, I strike up a conversation. No offense to Agnarr, but I feel way more comfortable talking to Elsa's mom instead. Which is ironic considering, you know…

"You're still a nurse right?"

"Mmhmm," she responds, "I'm off for the next couple of days, though."

"Oh hey, that's pretty convenient considering it's Christmas."

Iduna frowns, "Yeah, but the drawback is that I have to work on New Year's Eve."

"Ick." I say, more so because the onion smell is already hitting me. At least if this conversation gets emotional, I can just blame the tears on these devil fruits. Wait no, they're vegetables. Onions _are _vegetables, right? "How is it being a nurse? Is it fun?"

She's whipping up icing for the Christmas cookies that are still in the oven. She momentarily stops and sighs, "I don't know if 'fun' is the word I'd use. It can get very stressful, my feet are so sore everytime I come home, and I've dealt with more bodily fluids than I'd care to admit."

I bite my tongue before saying that that reminds me of my time as a bartender. Especially if she says someone threatened to stab her with a fork.

"But it's rewarding," she continues. "Having this ability to- pardon the pun- nurse people back to health, it's like...I don't know, it makes me feel like I have this sense of purpose."

I start dicing the onions to match the ones already in this bowl of...whatever she's gonna make. "It's hard though, right? Knowing what to do and how to heal people, I mean. It was hard to get to where you are now."

"Of course. But nothing worth having in this life comes easy. I'm sure you know that, Anna."

"...I do?"

She smiles knowingly, "You and Elsa, your relationship hasn't always been easy, I'm sure. But despite that, you persevered and now you're together again. Was any of _that _easy?"

I laugh, maybe a little too loud. Thankfully the Christmas noise covers most of it. "Hell no," I reply.

Iduna laughs too, much softer and more controlled than mine. I'm a little more relaxed around her when it comes to cursing. "Have you ever thought about being a nurse?"

"Me? Uh...I can't say it's crossed my mind."

"I think you would be a good fit for it. I can't tell why, it's more of a hunch, but if it's something that interests you...just let me know, okay?"

"O-okay."

Iduna washed her hands, and with perfect timing her alarm went off and she pulled the tray of cookies out of the oven. She looks over to my work in progress, and I'm thinking she's about to tell me that I did a shitty job, but she just purses her lips for a second and says, "I won't need those for a bit. Want to help me decorate some cookies instead?"

"Uh sure. Why not?" I wash my hands and grab a piping bag from Iduna, not having the heart to tell her that I have the artistic skills of a blind monkey. When she sets the tray down on the counter, I eye them carefully before placing the bag over one that looks like a stocking.

"Oh no, not those!" Iduna interjects.

I pull away from the tray, and put my hands up, holding the piping bag like it's a gun and I just got caught by the police. "Sorry!" I yelp, "Wasn't thinking."

"Those are still _way _too hot, we have to wait for them to cool," she explains while pulling out another tray of cookies from the fridge. "We're gonna be decorating these. Come on."

As we walk to the kitchen table, I expel words out of my face, "Right. Decorating. Those."

I'm hopeless.

* * *

"Anna, why are we outside?" Elsa protests as I lead her by the hand out to her front yard. "You're gonna freeze to death."

"Not if I'm with you," I reply. It hits me that that might be the cutest shit I've ever said. Good job, Anna.

I stop at the front of the garage door, the floodlights turn on and I can see the redness on her pale cheeks. She's wearing pajama pants and a shirt with yet another indie band I don't know. I'm wearing sweatpants and a warm, fluffy hoodie.

It's 8:30 PM, the first time we've had some serious alone time since the drive up here. With everyone else currently occupied by the abundance of desserts courtesy of Iduna, I'm able to slip away with Elsa so that she and I can finally breathe. And so I can do something equally as cute and incredibly romantic.

"Seriously Anna, what are we doing here? You know that my cousins are gonna eat all the cookies if we don't hurry."

"Don't worry, I hid some away for us. Now..." I say as I take both of her hands in mine. "Look up."

"What did you…" Elsa looks up and lets out a little gasp followed by a chuckle. I look up with her to see my handiwork: a mistletoe secured to the top of the garage door with duct tape courtesy of Agnarr.

"I didn't want to put it inside for, you know, obvious reasons. I know it's a little cheesy but hey, there are _some _cliches about Christmas that I'm a fan of. And I'll take any excuse to kiss you."

Elsa shakes her head and lets out an amused breath, made visible by the cold air. "You're such a dork."

I roll my eyes and smile, "Yeah but I'm your dork. Now are you gonna kiss me or not?"

She chooses wisely and brings me in for a tender kiss full of tidings of good cheer, and Christmas spirit, and all those other silly metaphors. I can taste hot chocolate on her lips, I hope she can't taste the eggnog on mine.

We have enough self-control to part before either of us drags the other one onto the snow to have the coldest sex ever (which _would_ be an amazing story, but a bitch to explain if we got caught). She keeps her arms on my shoulders, I keep my hands on her waist.

"I love you Anna," Elsa says, moving forward this time to hug me. "So very much."

"I love you too," I say, resting in her embrace. We stay outside for a little bit longer, until the cold finally starts numbing my toes. Before we go back inside and re-enter the madness, she kisses me underneath the mistletoe one more time.


	46. Day 242

**Day Two Hundred and Forty-Two: Home for Christmas**

**A/N: How's everyone holding up? I hope you don't mind some more Christmas-themed fluff. **

* * *

Even though I know we're okay, and that we're grown women, I'm still surprised that Agnarr and Iduna let me sleep in the same room as Elsa. That's not a complaint, of course, I'd be stupid to complain about that. After all, how many people get the chance to wake up next to their beautiful girlfriend on Christmas Day?

No, not next to, but _in the arms of _their beautiful girlfriend.

Yes you heard it right, I like being the little spoon. And it's not just because Elsa's taller than me so it makes sense for her to be the bigger spoon. There's something about the way she holds me that makes me feel safe and wanted. On the rare occasion when I woke up before her, I would fall right back asleep as long as I still felt her arms around me. The absence of this was the reason I barely slept when we broke up (and why I caved and used an electric blanket for a while).

As I slowly open my eyes, and feel her arms holding me close, I'm thinking this is one of those days where I'm up before her. And then I feel soft kisses along the back of my neck and shoulders.

It feels so amazing, I can't help the half-whimper, half-hum that comes out of me.

"Good morning," Elsa coos. "How'd you sleep?"

"How'd you know I was awake?" I ask.

"Felt you stirring, plus you breathe differently when you're asleep," Elsa explains.

"Is it a good different?" If I stop breathing or anything like that, I think that's something I should get checked out.

"It's a cute different, don't worry."

I have no idea what that means, and yet I still feel reassured. She places more gentle kisses on the back of my neck, sending wonderful tingles down my spine. It's not a ticklish spot, though, it's uh...a sensitive one. A fun jump-start button.

For horniness.

Before she turns me on even more and I have no choice but to mount her twenty feet from her parents' kitchen, I flip around so that I can face my stupidly awake girlfriend. "How long have you been up?"

"An hour."

I snicker, "So you've just been holding me the whole time? Weirdo." Even though that sounds sweet and absolutely like something that Elsa would do.

"Of course not. Just for the past twenty minutes, at least."

Hiding my disappointment, I ask her, "Couldn't sleep? Why were you up so early?"

"Actually that was one of the best nights of sleep I've had in my life. And 9 AM isn't _that _early." Elsa kisses me on my forehead, and I'm wondering if I'm wearing something that's making me more kissable than usual. "Especially on Christmas, in fact you're the last one awake."

"Ugh, great." I rest one hand between my pillow and head for extra elevation and place my other hand on Elsa's side. "That means when we get out of this room, we're not gonna have any alone time."

Elsa mimics my movements but places her free hand on my cheek instead. "Until the end of the day, yeah. But at least we have right now."

"Yeah," I say with a smile. "At least we have right now."

We look into each other's eyes, and I don't have to guess how much Elsa's enjoying this moment of peace. Because I know it's as much as I am. At the beginning of this year, I hated this woman's guts almost as much as I still loved her. And she was so filled with guilt that it sent her spiraling down into a pit of anxiety and self-loathing. Who would have guessed that we'd spend Christmas day lying in each other's arms, reveling in a shared moment of solitude?

Elsa breaks the silence, pulling back the unruly strands of hair from my face and stroking my cheek. "Merry Christmas, my love."

And I'm glad she said that because it's a perfect transition into my first Christmas gift to her. I kiss her on her forehead and reply softly, "Merry Christmas, my angel."

One day, on another hike she'd dragged me to join, I twisted my ankle and fell off the trail into a small ditch. While I was laying there, mostly too overcome with embarrassment to get up, she raced over to get me. And the combination of the sun hitting the back of her head to create a halo around her, and the fact that she was wearing a thin white jacket, led to me remarking that she looked like an angel. For the rest of the hike, she was blushing. Even more so when I teased her about it.

I would break out the "angel" card unexpectedly throughout our relationship, sometimes when I wanted to get back at her, but mostly as a cute surprise. I don't know why it is, but she loves when I call her something so out-of-character. Well hey, if I can make her happy by just saying one specific word, then I won't question it too much. It's a wonderful tool on my belt.

Sure enough, today has the same, desired effect. Maybe even a little more amplified. Her breath catches in her throat, her eyes grow misty, and her bottom lip begins to quiver. "You still remember?" she whispers.

"Of course I do," I whispered back.

Elsa kisses me with such force that it almost causes me to roll onto my back. I reciprocate as much as I can, but it's clear that she's in control and wants it to stay that way. At least for now. When a tear drops from her cheek onto mine, I'm worried for a moment.

But then she lets out a chuckle with her lips still pressed onto mine, and that's enough to tell me I did well.

* * *

We leave her room shortly after to show everyone that we're alive and not doing naughty things to get out of opening presents. Which is ridiculous anyway, presents are like my second favorite thing about Christmas (the first being cookies). Obviously since we're adults, Elsa and I didn't get a lot. And since no one in her extended family knew I was coming, I got less than her.

Except for her Grandma Ethel, surprisingly, who gifted us matching ugly sweaters. They were brown and cottony, with a reindeer face in the center and a red nose sticking out the front like a third nipple. Elsa loved it, and I tolerated it because she loved it. I'm not a sweater kind of gal. Especially ones with red nipples and reindeer.

We spent most of the gift-opening time watching all the kids go apeshit over their new toys and games. That, and doing cute couple shit like sitting on a couch with a mug of hot chocolate for Elsa, and a bigger mug of coffee for me.

In the end, Elsa got a nice leather laptop bag, the aforementioned ugly sweater, and a portable record player with some vinyls by her favorite bands. I got the sweater, a moleskin journal, and a ukulele. I honestly don't think I'll ever use the journal (thanks anyway, Agnarr), but I couldn't wait to annoy Elsa by singing cheesy love songs all in the same key with an obnoxiously breathy voice.

Of course we also got presents for each other, but decided to exchange them later in the day when we were alone again.

Things settled down after that, some people helped clean the living room of all the wrapping paper, while others sat at the kitchen table reminiscing about Christmas memories that you just "had to be there" for. All while Christmas music played on the speakers that Agnarr hooked up himself. Things were calm and low-key.

You know, until the snowball fight.

The younger ones started it, obviously. After bundling up in fifty layers of clothing, they raced onto the front yard and soon began pelting each other with snow. Elsa and I watched them with amusement, and I almost got her to bet on who would win. I was thinking it would be her cousin Lyla, who played softball and no one could tag her because she was dipping and diving like a pro. Elsa was leaning towards her cousin Erik, whose strategy was to scoop as much snow as possible in his arms and hide behind Elsa's car.

At some point, they saw us watching and it only took one kid to ask us to join before they were all chanting for us to come outside.

"I'm down if you're down," I said to Elsa with a wide grin on my face.

"Are you going to go easy on them?" she asked.

I shake my head, "Pssh, of course not."

"Yeah, me neither."

Once we stepped outside, we were greeted with a barrage of tiny snowballs packed by tiny hands. I guess it was going to be the five of them against the two of us, and the only way to win was to _not _be us.

It was like middle-school gym class all over again.

Elsa and I hid behind her car, shooing the kids away with snow chucked right onto their dumb faces. I can be this rude to Elsa's cousins because she talks about them behind their back all the time anyway. And the way she was packing the snow in her hands told me she was out for blood...metaphorically. She always looked comfortable around ice and snow, it was definitely her element in more ways than one. The way she traversed through the thick front-yard slush like it was nothing, and the efficiency in which he made her snowballs was a sight to behold.

They hid behind trees, ran around the driveway, and one kid even tried rapidly building the base to a fort. He got hit with a lot of snowballs, mostly from me.

After twenty minutes and a couple more hiding spot changes later, I turned to Elsa as we barricaded the gate to her backyard and asked, "How are you holding up? You wanna stop?"

Elsa gives me a tired smile, "Of course not, I love being forever hounded by kids hyped up on Christmas cookies."

I roll my eyes, "You and sarcasm are a dangerous and sexy combination."

The kids were now hitting the gate with their gloves in a strangely ominous tempo while they chanted both our names.

"Holy...that's kinda terrifying, right?" I asked her as I reached down to make a snowball just in case.

"Yeah." Elsa frowned and eyed the lock wearily. "I hope they don't break the gate. It took my father forever to put this up."

"These kids are as heavy as a potato sack, no way they can-" I'm interrupted as the pounding and their voices grow louder. "Yeah maybe we should open the gate."

Elsa let out a breath, "Yeah. As soon as I open it, we run. You ready?"

I snort, "Of course not."

Like two soldiers ready to take their final stand, we nodded at each other and Elsa unlocked the gate. But before we could open it and book it as fast as our much longer legs could take us, the piercing voice of Iduna rang out. She called the kids away from the gate and told them to come back inside. A chorus of whines and boo's erupted from behind the gate, gradually fading away as the kids begrudgingly went back inside. I'd never heard her mom speak with such terrifying authority before. Maybe she only reserved that for her unruly patients.

Regardless, I let out a sigh of relief and leaned on the gate with Elsa. "You know, your mom's kind of a badass," I told her.

"I know," Elsa replied.

* * *

It's early in the evening. The Christmas lights and lawn decorations along the cul de sac are gradually coming on again, and the winter chill is really setting in. The kids are in the backyard where they can be better supervised, and some of the _actual _adults are in the living room watching a basketball game. Elsa and I, meanwhile, are sitting with Iduna in their tiny music room as the older woman plays beautiful chords on her guitar.

It's probably a Christmas song, or a folk song from the 80's. Elsa got a lot of her personality from her mom, like her music taste and penchant for finding places to get away from everyone for a moment.

Their family spent a good amount of money turning this former guest room into a music room. It had a nice wooden finish with spongey soundproof padding along the walls. And there were assorted instruments on stands and cases, for when a traveling concert band decided to rehearse and spend the night here.

I'm musically illiterate, but it's still my second favorite room in the house- my favorite, of course, being Elsa's bedroom. Iduna plays a riff (I think that's what they're called), and looks at her daughter, "You remember this song, right?"

"Of course, it's the lullaby you used to sing to me every night."

Iduna smiles and nods, playing the strings delicately before singing what I assume is the lullaby she's talking about. It dawns on me that I've heard Elsa humming this same song more than once.

_Where the north wind meets the sea_

_There's a river full of memory_

_Sleep, my darling safe and sound_

_For in this river all is found_

Elsa sings along with her, first hitting the same notes and then harmonizing as the song progresses. They both look so at peace, like the rest of the world doesn't exist in this moment. I'd feel a little left out if I wasn't so entranced by their voices, especially Elsa's. I've always loved hearing her sing, it fills me with this captivating peace. I could be having the worst day in the world, and all Elsa would have to do is scratch my head and sing me something to calm me down. Anything. Even the most vulgar rap song in the world would put me at ease if it was sung by her.

As Iduna strums one final chord, Elsa lets out a content breath and looks at me as if to say that she was grateful for me being here. Not that I think she's _un_grateful whenever I'm around, it's just that I really didn't add anything to this moment. And yet she's smiling at me like I was the one that made this happen.

"You know, now that I think about it," Elsa says, "Why do lullabies always have to have some terrible warning in them?"

Iduna chuckles, "I've always wondered the same thing. How are you doing there, Anna?"

How am I what? Wait, I'm here. That's right. I'm in this room with them, listening and smiling. Oh man, I must have looked like the biggest dork. Alright, let's save whatever's left our dignity here by saying something intelligent.

"Pretty." Already fucked it up, great. "I-I mean that was pretty, really pretty. I love hearing you two sing, I missed it a lot."

"Elsa doesn't sing when I'm not around?"

"She does, a lot. I-I mean just the right amount, I didn't want to sound like it's annoying, because it's not. Her voice is just as amazing as yours."

Iduna shakes her head, "Trust me, Anna, my daughter's voice is a hundred times better than mine. You know she could have been on TV."

"Oh no," Elsa groaned and dropped her head into her palms. "Mother, please don't..."

"Ooh, this sounds like a fun story," I say, patting Elsa's thigh as I lean forward.

"You didn't tell Anna?"

"No, because it's _embarrassing_!" she protests.

I'm practically bouncing in my seat, "And now I absolutely want to hear this."

Iduna placed her guitar back on its stand, amidst more protests in the forms of grumbles and pouts from Elsa, and leaned forward herself, "And I will absolutely tell you, Anna."

Apparently, when Elsa was fourteen, Iduna had signed her up to audition on some singing competition show. Given that she was young and adorable, had a surprisingly mature singing voice, and was polite and well-mannered, it came as no surprise when she got through the initial audition. Elsa was still ecstatic when she found out, and the next step was to audition in front of the show judges. Itt was going to be taped this time, with the best/worst performances being broadcasted on the first episode.

Now just as invested in this as Iduna was, Elsa watched hours of footage online about the show to get a good feel of the judges and what kind of singers they were looking for. It turned out that it was a very country-oriented competition, the judges were well-known country artists and the winners of each season got a recording contract by a studio that primarily put out country music. Elsa was, of course, not the least bit country but decided to steer into the stereotypes so that she could fit in and, ironically, stand out.

"And now here's the best part," Iduna said with the widest grin on her face.

"Uuuuugh!" Elsa replied, head still buried in her hands. "Motheeer..."

It turns out that neither of them read the part about the show doing a complete 180, and instead wanted to find the next big pop star. There were different judges, a different song list, a different stage, a different _everything. _So, when Elsa came to the taping in blue jeans with a massive belt buckle, a tucked-in red checkered flannel, a bandana around her neck, and a cowboy hat and boots...well, she definitely stood out.

"Not even ten seconds after we stepped into that auditorium, she begged me to drive her back home," Iduna remarked. "And that was the end of my daughter's potential country artist career. I honestly thought the whole thing was hilarious, and an honest mistake."

"Of course _you _think so," Elsa replied, now looking at us with a pitiful pout. "You weren't the one insisting on going to every thrift store in the city to find cowboy boots."

I put a hand on her back, and kiss the top of her head, "Well for what it's worth, I think you would have been an _adorable _country star."

"I think so too, sweetheart," Iduna added.

Elsa leaned her head on my shoulder, still pouting, "You guys are the worst."

* * *

If it wasn't already obvious, Iduna was the one that gifted me the ukulele, and she even gave me a crash course on some chords (crash chords?) so that I didn't just fumble with the strings for the first like five months.

"Okay so put that finger up here," I mumble to myself. "And then this one right here- no, one over. And then my third finger like that. And it should sound like…" I gently strum the strings with my thumb, being greeted by this happy noise that, holy shit, sounds like music. "Fuck yeah, this is so much better than a Rubik's cube."

The bedroom door opens, and it's Elsa with a suspicious-looking paper bag in her hand. Or, at least it would be suspicious if I didn't already know it had my present inside. "That sounded really pretty," she said earnestly.

"Yeah well wait till it takes me less than two minutes to play one chord," I reply.

"Can't wait.' Elsa sneakily locked her door (don't even think about it, Anna, her whole family's still here) and sat on the bed with me, legs crossed with an excited look on her face. She places the bag on her lap and says, "You ready?"

I put down the ukulele and reached behind me, putting a decent-sized box on my lap. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Should we explain the gift first before exchanging it?"

I raise an eyebrow, "Does your gift need an explanation? Because mine's pretty straightforward."

Elsa bites her lip, "Um...maybe a little bit? Why don't I go first so that I stop psyching myself out?"

I put a hand on her knee, "Whatever helps. Besides, you know I'm gonna love whatever it is anyway."

I see her grow more at ease when she feels my touch and hears my words, and it makes me feel like a goddamn wizard or something. Or an Elsa Whisperer. I wish that was something I could get paid to do. Wait, this isn't about me right now.

She places her hand on mine and lets out a deep breath, "Well...do you remember the first time we were dating, and we liked joking about how you were my knight in shining armor?"

"Not a joke, I would absolutely kill a dragon and rescue you from a tower if I got the chance."

Elsa giggled, "I, uh, I actually loved it every time you said you were my knight. It made me feel safe and protected, I never had to worry about anything when I was with you. I never doubted you when you said you'd always be there for me. I think you know now how much that really meant to me back then."

I nod and decide not to make any more comments. I didn't want to take this moment from her.

"You really _are _my knight in shining armor, Anna," she says, pushing the bag towards me. "And I think you deserve something to prove that."

Elsa's looking at me like I'm the only thing that matters. It makes me feel, well, a lot of things. Warm, admired, embarrassed, slightly turned on, but...mostly loved. I'm not surprised anymore at how much Elsa loves me, but I am surprised at how she keeps finding new ways to show it. Then again, she didn't get to show her love at all the first time around.

I take the gift bag, wondering for a second if I should go through it slowly for dramatic effect. But I'm more impatient than dramatic, so I take out the wrapping paper quickly and pull out the present: a white gift box. I gasp and clutch it close to my chest, "It's just what I wanted!"

Elsa rolls her eyes, "Open the box, dork."

Like a dork, I open the box by flipping up the magnetic flap. Resting on a white velvet cushion is a large, gorgeous pin in the shape of a shield. It has a gold outline and a metallic frame, and in the center is a golden otter looking like it's about to square up with a bitch. And yeah, I did tell Elsa I was going to love whatever she gave me, but my reaction is much more pathetic than I'm expecting.

It's me stammering, my eyes shifting between her and the shield, and then letting out a pathetic whimper that's supposed to sound like, "Really?"

"Do you like it? There's also a stand in the box so you can put it on a desk, shelf, or wherever you want. You should have seen the look on the shopkeeper's face when I said I wanted the engraving to be an otter instead of a lion. I-I mean you'd like the otter more, right?"

Thankfully, I find my voice to keep my wonderful girlfriend from being too insecure, "Elsa, this is fucking amazing. I love it!"

"Even the otter?"

"Especially the otter!" I carefully place the shield back in the box, slide it away, and kiss her. She yelps at first (which is adorable because I wasn't exactly making any sudden movements), but with a content sigh she kisses me back and rests her fingers on my cheek. I wonder for a second if I can get away with super long kisses being my gift, but breathing is a thing. Plus, I really think she's going to like what I got her. Shit...I really hope she likes what I got her.

Before we get to that, though, I kiss her once more on the lips, a couple more times on the cheek, and then on the forehead. "You are amazing," I tell her.

"So are you," she replies, giving me a peck on the lips too.

"Okay...then I guess it's my turn," I pull back and put Elsa's gift in front of my lap. "Just promise me that you'll tell me if you hate it."

"Anna…"

I roll my eyes, "I know, you're also gonna love whatever I get you. But, if it's too much, I really do want you to tell me. And I'll get you something else, okay?"

She frowns, but nods her head.

With a deep breath, I slide the present over to her, hiding away my slightly shaking hands as she unfolds the wrapping paper. Slowly and surely, the present is revealed, and I watch her face go from excited to curious to shocked.

"Oh my gosh…" Elsa says softly. "Anna, it's…"

She makes up for her inability to complete full sentences by discarding the wrapping paper and revealing the photo album in its entirety. Leather bound with glossy pages, and in the middle of the cover is a picture of us at Veroa Beach for the first time.

When she doesn't speak anymore and goes through the pages instead, my anxiousness takes over and I start rambling. "The, uh, the cover picture is replacable- I mean you can change it out. It doesn't have all of our old pictures, I-I'm sorry but they...some got burned. But there are still some good ones, and we can always fill up the other pages. With new pictures. Of us. Hopefully? I mean if you want to."

"You're the most amazing girlfriend in the world," Elsa finally replies with tears in her eyes, "I love this. And I love you."

All the weight comes off my shoulders, and I take her hand in mine, "I love you too."

She squeezes it tight and sniffles, closing the album for now. "You and I are going to fill these pages with a lifetime of memories."

And as she kisses me one more time, with a passion that I have a surprisingly hard time keeping up with, I'm overwhelmed with joy at the thought that she loved the present. And eager to see just how long a lifetime will last.

I'm so glad I decided to come home for Christmas.


	47. Day 248

**Day Two Hundred and Forty-Eight: Counting Stars**

_9:27 PM_

It's quiet uptown.

Which is ironic, considering it's New Year's Eve and we're on the party side of Arendelle. But Elsa's really good at finding good spots for solitude, and tonight is no exception. She drove us away from the pulsing nightlife, down barren highways and narrow roads, and out to a secluded ocean view. Not at Veroa Beach, but somewhere only she knew. And now, I guess, I know it too.

She told me it was a place she found during college when she needed to get away for a little while and focus. Barely anyone came by because it was so out of the way, and Veroa Beach was closer to everything. She figured it used to be a closed-off section where someone was going to build a beach house before they probably changed their mind. At night, there was never anyone here.

She pulled up right at the edge of the sand, and off the road enough so that the car wouldn't get hit on the off-chance anyone else took this road. I grabbed a bag from the backseat and followed her onto the beach.

The dark sea's waves crashed along the shore, welcoming us to a night of peace and (relative) quiet. On the far left of us was the bridge that lead back to the main road. And off in the distance was a skyline view of Central Arendelle, the building lights acting as a beacon to guide us back home. But those lights paled in comparison to the starry night above us.

I'm not as much of a star girl as Elsa is, but that doesn't stop me from saying "Holy shit."

With her headlights still on, I can see my girlfriend beaming at me with a face too gorgeous to notice how tired she's getting. We've stayed up longer than this at the hotel, but she also had the luxury of passing out in my lap at any time. Tonight, she wants to see the fireworks. Which means she can't pass out for a few more hours. Thankfully for her, I promised to drive us back.

"I told you it'd be worth it," she says proudly. "Come on, my spot's this way."

She guides me by the hand further along the beach till she sits down on a sandy area that doesn't seem all that special to the other areas of sand. But she's happy here, and that's all that matters.

I sit next to her and place the bag down in front of us. "Aren't we gonna set the blanket first?"

Elsa rests her head on my shoulder, "No, that's for you in case you get cold."

"I have my leather jacket on, I really don't think I'm gonna-" A gust of wind passes that shuts me up. As I try and stifle a shudder, I continue, "Okay fine, maybe I'll need it."

"See? I know you."

"Yeah, you do." I flick her nose, which causes her to scrunch up her face. "Now hush."

* * *

_10:00 PM_

I pull the blanket tighter around me as Elsa draws on the sand with her finger, flashlight in her other hand. Part of me thinks I should have brought my ukulele with me, but I don't feel comfortable playing in front of Elsa yet. Not until the shit I'm playing actually sounds like music.

"Look," she says while wiping the sand off on her jeans. "It's a heart."

She shines the light on it, and it's definitely...a shape. It's definitely got two humps and a point at the end. And it's definitely a thing that she made. "Yeah, that's supposed to be a heart, alright," I say in support.

"Hey! The sand's hard to write on."

"No, I totally get it. You're going for, like, that abstract modern art feel. It's got a good spirit to it, really tells a _story_. You can feel the social commentary in the arches, and the story inside the details. Chiaroscuro and all that."

Elsa rolls her eyes, "Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"Of course not. I heard the word 'chiaroscuro' on TV the other day and thought it sounded cool."

"It's an art concept, the balance of light and darkness. Like the shadows in a painting, or those optical illusions where you look at the white part and it's one image, but if you look at the black part it's a different image."

I chuckle, "So you know _that _but you don't know how to draw a heart in the sand?"

"Drawing is hard, okay?" Elsa protested. She tries tugging off the blanket, but my grip is too tight and she ends up taking us both down on the sand with her, surely messing up her art project. We lay on the sand together, laughing at how awfully cliche this all feels. But they're cliches because they work, and as our laughing subsides, all we can hear again is the sounds of the waves crashing, and the sand shifting beneath our bodies.

Elsa leans forward and kisses me. I'm expecting it to be simple and sweet, but she doesn't stop after the first one. Or the second one. Or the third, which is when she rolls over until she's on top of me, the blanket partially underneath my surprised frame.

She straddles my hips, placing both hands on my cheeks and kisses me without any signs of stopping. The dirty part of my mind thinks this might escalate into something crazy and exciting, but there's no way that Elsa would be that bold. Right?

Well, the hand now moving down and inside my shirt tells me otherwise.

I part our lips for a moment, touching her forehead to mine. "Well this is new," I say with a grin, which she _returns_.

"No one's gonna come by here, so...you know…"

With that, my eyes widen. "You sure?"

Elsa bites her lip and nods, trailing her hand higher and bending down to kiss my neck. "I'm very sure," she whispers into my ear.

"Then I'm definitely not gonna compl- ah…"Whatever stupid comment I would have made dies before it reaches my lips. And I lay there silently as Elsa works her magic.

* * *

_10:43 PM_

True to her word, not a single car came by while we had our little fun on the beach. Which made Elsa's attempts to keep herself quiet very adorable, and surprisingly sexy. Then again, everything about Elsa is surprisingly sexy.

And how else would you follow up sex on the beach than with a romantic walk on the beach...that you just had sex on.

Holy shit, we just had sex on the beach.

Elsa squeezes my hand. "What are you thinking about?" she asks.

Obviously I can't tell her I'm still thinking about what we just did on the same sand we're stepping on, so I point at the sky and ask, "How many stars do you think there are?"

Elsa looks up, "Thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Maybe some number we haven't even thought of yet. What do you think?"

I shrug, "Eh, I'd say at least twenty."

"Ah, yeah you're probably right." We walk in silence for a few more steps before Elsa speaks again, "My parents used to say that the stars were...different moments in time. The memories of the world accumulate over a set time period, and when that time is over a new star appears. All of our past is up there in the sky."

"Why is your whole family so fucking cool?"

Elsa laughs, "Hey, you're pretty cool too."

"Of course I am, I never said I wasn't. But damn. Moments in time, huh?" My eyes are drawn to the points in the sky where the stars seem infinite- where I can definitely see more than twenty. The cover of the night, decorated with spots of brightness, a millennia of memories. All of time is looking down at us right now, waiting for these moments to become a star of their own. "If you could travel back to any point in time, where would you go?"

Barely any time passes (surely not enough to make another star) before Elsa answers, "Nowhere. I'd stay right here."

"You wouldn't go back and fix anything? If you had the chance, and knew everything that you know now, you wouldn't go back in time to do something differently?"

Elsa can sense where I'm going with this, and she squeezes my hand again to get me to look at her. Her smile is confident, there's not a single shred of doubt on her face. "The times that hurt us- hurt _me_\- of course I wish they never happened. But somehow we're okay, I'm okay, and we're back together again. If I went back and changed any of that pain, but it ended with us being forever apart, then it wouldn't have been worth it."

She kisses my very cold cheek, warming it up momentarily. Her words are reassuring, even if I don't completely agree with them. If I had the chance to go back and not say the hurtful things that I said to her, I wouldn't even give it a second thought. But I guess that's just a guilt I'm going to have to learn to deal with...or let go. And, of course, there's the other thing. The only other regret that I have.

"What about you?" Elsa asks. "Would you go back to a point in time and fix something?"

"Of course."

She raises an eyebrow, "When would you go?"

My answer is automatic: "My eighth birthday. I'd try to talk my mom out of leaving."

The wind blows a little bit colder once I make my confession. They're words I've thought of hundreds of times, but never ones I've said out loud before.

"Anna..." she replies, more worried than I've ever heard her be.

Thinking fast, I try to ease said worries. "Kidding, I- of course, I..."

I want to tell Elsa that I'm okay too, that I don't want to be anywhere else but here. With her. And I _do_, but to say that I'm joking, that I don't care _that _much about talking to my mom again, is something my brain refuses to let me say. A weird lump forms in my throat, choking out my lies, and my lips are quivering too much for me to make any more coherent noises.

Elsa notices, of course, and she steps in front of me to envelop me in a hug, holding me tight. I wrap my arms around her waist and try to keep my tears at bay to keep from messing up her hoodie. That lasts maybe five seconds.

"It's okay," Elsa coos, stroking my hair, "I'm here. I'm always gonna be here."

My sobbing is heavy and pathetic, but at least it doesn't last too long. And it's at least partially drowned out by the waves. She holds me the entire time, and doesn't loosen her grip until my breathing's finally calmed down.

I slowly and regretfully pull away from her arms, wiping my eyes with my thumb. "Holy shit, I've got issues," I say hoarsely. "That came out of nowhere."

Elsa wipes my cheeks with the sleeve of her hoodie, "But it felt good to get out though, right?"

I think about it for a second, "Actually...yeah. A little bit."

"It always does." Elsa finishes wiping my tears and kisses my forehead, pulling me in for another, less sad, hug.

I'm hoping this kind of thing doesn't happen again.

* * *

_11:25 PM_

Elsa yawns, and she amusingly tries to hide it from me even though there's no one else to blame it on.

"Getting tired?" I ask.

"_Getting?" _she replies in that post-yawn voice. Honestly, it's a little adorable that she's not used to staying up past midnight anymore. But at the same time, I don't want to be watching the fireworks with a knocked out blonde on my lap.

I stroke her hair, and then stop when I remember that that puts her to sleep too. "We can drive back so you don't have to sleep on the sand. We'll still see the fireworks from the car."

She shakes her head, "Noooo. We came all this way out here, and it's so close to midnight. We can make it."

"Elsa, I know _I _can make it. I don't know if you can."

"We just gotta do something to pass the time." Elsa leans up to kiss me, but gets my neck instead. Oh...oh wait no, that was what she was aiming for. "Something fun."

This girl is ridiculous. I push her away gently and giggle, "As enticing as that might sound, I don't want you passing out on my boobs...or anywhere else. That, and I'm pretty sure I still have sand where sand shouldn't be."

Elsa grumbles, "You're no fun."

"Of course I'm not. That's why I came prepared for when this inevitably happened." I reach into the bag and pull out a smaller paper bag. "Here, this should help."

She takes the bag and eyes it carefully, "What is it? Drugs?"

I roll my eyes, "Just open it, you stinker."

She opens the paper bag and gasps, "Chocolate!"

At the diner, they had this big fucking tray of tiny chocolate bars that they gave out to kids. On my last day, I took a paper bag and stuffed it with as many chocolates as possible and I've been snacking on them ever since. Elsa never knew about it until now because she has literally zero self-control when it comes to chocolate bars. As evident by the fact that she's already unwrapping her third one by the time I finish this thought.

She bounces a little and hums, and I really hope she's chewing these things before swallowing them. They should give her enough energy to last us until midnight, hopefully without me having to carry her back in the car.

After the fourth bar, she looks at me with sugar-induced joy, "You're amazing. And I love you."

* * *

_11:59 PM_

Finally.

We've made it.

Elsa's awake enough to appreciate the next minute, at least, and I'm holding her close because it's cute and also because the blanket isn't doing enough to warm me up. There are still no other sounds to hear but the waves congratulating us by doing their thing, and the breeze telling us that we were idiots for staying out here for two and a half hours.

"One more minute until the new year," Elsa says.

"Yeah…we made it."

She snuggles up even more, shifting in the sand, "Did you think we would get this far?"

It's an honest question, and considering where we are, and where we started...I let out a breath, "No, honestly. It's a miracle. One year ago, I was drunk off my ass bitching to Rapunzel about not having anyone to kiss at midnight."

Elsa chuckles, "One year ago, I was...well I was asleep by now, but I spent it at my apartment eating noodles and on the phone with my parents."

"Holy shit, we've lived such different lives."

"And yet here we are," she says.

"And yet here we are," I repeat. "I think- no, I _know_ that one-year-ago-Anna would have loved to have celebrated the new year with you."

"One-year-ago-Elsa was actually going to call you that night."

Wow, that's a stunning confession. I look up at her, searching for a sign that she's joking, searching for any sadness in that memory. "Why didn't you?" I ask her.

She sighs, "You know why."

"Yeah...well now you have me. And I'm never gonna let you go."

Elsa holds me tighter and kisses me, a grateful hum leaves her lips and rings against mine. One year ago feels like twenty. It's been a hell of a ride, and I wish today was the last day of the contest because it would be so appropriate. But we've got a little longer to go, and thankfully April doesn't seem like such a daunting deadline anymore. Now that I know what's waiting for us at the end.

And if somehow, through some sort of contrived bullshit, we end up losing the contest and the money, I...I think I can learn to be okay with that. Because we have each other, and I wouldn't trade that for anything else. Not even for a million stars in the sky, a million opportunities to change the past. Because of all the ways I've fucked up, being with Elsa was the smartest thing I've ever done.

Elsa pulls out her phone and navigates to her timer, "Fifteen more seconds."

"Damn, wouldn't it be crazy if some catastrophic event happens when the countdown ends?" I joke.

"Shh, let's just enjoy these last few seconds of the year."

Ten...nine...eight...seven…

The ocean produces its last waves of the year, crashing and foaming along the sand, never reaching us.

Six...five...four…

The lights of the city beckon us back home, but we've made it this far. And right now there's nowhere else I'd rather be, and no other person I'd want to spend this time with. After all the crazy shit we've put each other through, we deserved to share this moment together with no distractions and no complications.

Three…

Elsa puts away her phone and looks at me, the brightness in her eyes outshines the entire skyline.

Two…

I look at her, leaning in close. She leans in too.

One…

We kiss each other passionately as the fireworks in the distance light up the city. The flashing colors add light to the darkness, and distant booms join the crashing waves, adding to the soundtrack of one of our most electrifying kisses ever. I hold close the woman I love, reminding myself of how real this is.

Happy New Year.

* * *

_12:18 AM_

I make a right on the dirt road, letting out a mental sigh of relief as we're finally back on the highway. Now I know exactly how to get back, which is great because my copilot is passed out right next to me. The radio is quietly playing some alt-rock ballad because I was too lazy to change the station, and I can see the bridge in the distance which means I'll be able to finally see past the headlights.

We'll get to the hotel in about half an hour, I'm hoping that Elsa will be awake enough to walk to the room because I really don't want to carry her. Especially without a swimming pool to break her inevitable fall.

I'm given a little bit of hope that she'll be able to help herself when she adjusts in her seat to make her body face me now. And with enough excess energy that I credit to the chocolate, she mumbles out, "I love you."

I stroke her hair, keeping my eyes on the road, and reply, "I love you too, my angel."

She hums happily.

When we get to the bridge, the light pollution starts to get a little worse, and fireworks are still going off. But when I look past the bridge, and out towards the sky…

I swear I can see a new star.

* * *

**A/N: And with that, the holiday break is officially over. I enjoyed it, I hope y'all did too, I felt like it was a nice change of pace from the...well, everything. And now we can go back to the important stuff like the contest and other unresolved issues. Can you believe it's almost been a year?**


	48. Day 294

**Day Two Hundred and Ninety-Four: Nothing Else But You**

**A/N: Disclaimer- I don't own Frozen.**

* * *

It's always the most innocent questions during the check-in that almost trip me up. Shit like "What have you and Elsa been up to?" or "Do you have any complaints with your room?" or "Have you found a job yet?"

Okay, admittedly that last near-slip was because I was pissed at not finding a job. So I almost mentioned that my motivation to find a job was solely the "rewards" I get from Elsa whenever I send out an application. Olaf bought it...probably. As for Elsa, I don't have the heart to tell her that I _have _been getting calls back for interviews, but they're for shit like data entry and custodial work. No offense to janitors, but I'm not going to spend my day cleaning up other people's messes. And sitting on my ass all day typing numbers and faking being nice to people is stupid.

This time, however, the question that almost trips me up is a big one.

Olaf scribbles on his two-snowflake clipboard and asks, without looking up, "So what did you and Elsa do for Valentine's Day?"

If I was drinking anything at the moment, I would have definitely done a spit take. Instead I just let out the worst laugh to ever come out of my throat, like a psychopathic shriek from someone who has no idea how to be a psychopath. It sounded convincing in my head (as in like "Hahaha, that's a ridiculous thing to ask") but I bet it actually made me sound like a dying seagull.

Olaf looks taken aback at my outburst, and it's clear that I need to say something. Anything. Don't you dare fuck this up, Reinhart.

"What? Do you think we spent it together?" Because yes, we absolutely did.

"I don't think so? It would be against the rules if you two went on a date."

I give him a nonchalant frown, "Well technically it's only against the rules if we fall in love. And I've been on dates with lots of girls I wasn't in love with." Most of them, actually.

"Well, that is certainly true." Olaf looks way too curious for his own good. "So..._did_ you and Elsa go on a date for Valentine's Day?"

He doesn't put his clipboard down, so I need to know: "Are you asking because you're curious? Or because it's your job?"

He shrugs, feigning innocence. Though knowing Olaf, he doesn't have a sneaky bone in his body. "A little bit of both, but mostly just curious." He places his clipboard on his lap (good) and leans forward, hands clasped like an eager interviewer. "I mean you're right, going on a date isn't against the rules. _But_ it's my job to make sure that date might not lead into anything else. Like love!"

Ah, yeah we wouldn't want that.

"Well look, it wasn't necessarily a date." Yes it was. "We didn't have any plans because...we just didn't. So we decided to spend the day together. Girls- especially roommates- do that all the time." I think. I've never had roommates, so hopefully going on fake dates is something they do.

Olaf nods as if I've chosen my answer wisely, "So what did you do?"

"Donuts for breakfast, walking around the park, and shit talking romantic comedies in my room." That's all he needs to know, even though part of me wants to brag about how good I am at planning dates.

Olaf gasps, "Ooh I _love _donuts! Where did you get them?"

"Uhh, from that new bakery that just opened up. Warm…something. The one with the cute redhead." Who openly flirted with me in front of Elsa. She laughed it off later, but I could tell it made her jealous by the way her cheeks flared up and how she got a little more handsy. It was kind of adorable.

He picks up his clipboard to write something down, but I get the sense that it's not for the check-in. "Well I'll be sure to take my wife there one of these days."

I let out another dying seagull noise, more muted this time. "You have a...uh, yeah it's great. It's a great place. Good food. Cute workers. Might ask one of them out, who knows?" Eww, that left a bitter taste in my mouth. I'll lie about us to some extent, but even pretending to be interested in someone else is crossing a line. I'm gonna have to find a way to make that up to Elsa somehow.

"And the walk sounds lovely too. Did you go to Central Arendelle Park? I hear they decorated the place for Valentine's Day, and even had a live band at the promenade."

No, actually we went back to that beach we went to on New Year's Eve. It's even prettier during the day. "Yeah, we went to Central Arendelle Park and gagged at all the love and the couples and stuff. We left early because there were too many people and Elsa was feeling overwhelmed."

Olaf smiles at me, "You're a really good friend." Yeah totally, I'm such an amazing gal pal to Elsa. "And it sounds like you two had a nice day yesterday, I'm so glad you're finally getting along. I really am rooting for you two to go the distance."

He's not the only one. I sigh, "So yeah, we spent Valentine's Day together. Platonically and all that, surprisingly it wasn't weird."

He picks up his clipboard again, and this time I know he's writing something for the check-in. "Well, that's all I needed for today. If you could call Elsa for me, she and I can get to work and hopefully you two will stay on for another week."

"I hope so too," I say with a little bit of unease, just to be overdramatic. I sit up and walk to Elsa's door, doing her knock. In a few seconds, she's opening the door with much more clothes on than she was wearing last night. And thankfully _not _my shirt.

"Everything good?" Elsa asks me with an eager smile that's telling me she's dying to be back in my arms again. To Olaf, it should seem like her usual early-morning energy.

"Of course. I'm a goddamn professional," I say, stifling my urge to wink at her as a way of giving her props for the stellar job she did last night. "Now hurry up so I can go back to sleep.."

Elsa giggles, "Yes ma'am."

* * *

I, of course, do not go back to sleep. After noodling around with my ukulele for a bit, my door opens and Elsa's got a much wider smile on her face. And when she walks closer, I can see a bit of a blush on her cheeks too.

"Everything good?" I ask her this time, placing the ukulele behind me.

"Of course. I'm a...professional," she replies.

"Booo," I say as I give her a thumbs down. "You gotta say the whole thing or else it's not as cool."

"Hush." Elsa sits on the bed in front of me, cross-legged. "Did he ask you about Valentine's Day?"

"Yeah, I told him that we went on a date but not really, I told him that girls do it all the time. Girls do that all the time, right?"

"Oh," Elsa says as she rubs the back of her neck, which isn't the reaction I was expecting. "You...told him about the date? Because I _didn't_."

"Then what did you tell Olaf?"

"I said that we hung out, sure, but I didn't tell him any details. I thought we agreed to tell Olaf nothing." It seems like there's actual pain in Elsa's eyes, like she just got punched in the gut. Does she feel betrayed? Damn it, Anna.

I sigh, "You're right, I'm sorry I...yesterday was really special and I guess I wanted to brag about it a little bit."

"To Olaf?"

"To anyone! But yeah, you're right I fucked up and told the wrong person. But I'm sure it'll be okay. The worst case scenario is that he'll think _I'm _the only one in love and will start paying more attention to me. It'll take the heat off of you."

Elsa's tapping her knee at an alarming pace, shifting her gaze from the floor and then to me with a look that seems like she's asking me for help. Yeah she might feel betrayed, but I think there's something else going on here. Something worse. And my suspicions are confirmed when she starts speaking faster, rattling off words at a pace that sounds like me when I gave a speech for class.

"B-but what if it doesn't, Anna? What if he gets even more suspicious? Towards us both? Or just to me? What if he starts cracking down on _me _more? The lying's already hard enough and I can't handle any more scrutiny, it-it's not...I can't do it. I can't come up with more things to say to get him off our track. Today was _hard_, and I don't know if I can come up with more lies for ten weeks. I-I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I don't want to ruin this for us, Anna, I just...what do I have to _do _in order to fix everything and make sure that we don't-"

I take the hand that's on the back of her neck and hold it in mine, and place my free hand on her cheek. "Elsa," I say sternly. "_Elsa_. Look at me."

Elsa pauses, her chest rises and falls at an alarming rate as her eyes do their best to stay focused on mine. The grip she has on my hand is tight, but bearable. It's my (technically) healthier hand, so it's fine.

"Breathe," I tell her slowly. "Slowly, in and out. Just breathe, babe."

She nods and closes her eyes, taking in a long breath before exhaling. I've seen the warning signs of an imminent panic attack from her too many times. Thankfully, she's been able to work through the milder ones. It's this kinda triggering shit that will knock her for a loop, though, and I'm glad that I was here to help. Less glad that I'm technically the one that caused it. I can at least take some solace in the fact that she isn't crying this time.

When her breathing has finally settled, I kiss her forehead and say softly, "It's okay. I've got you. You're safe."

She nods and falls onto my shoulder. For a second, I'm thinking that she's passed out, but then I hear her say, "I'm sorry. I love you."

I stroke her back and reply, "I love you too, and you never need to apologize for your anxiety. _I'm_ sorry for fucking up with Olaf, I'll remember next time not to tell him anything. I'll duct tape my mouth if I have to, or learn sign language and pretend I went deaf."

She giggles a little bit, "You don't have to do that. Just…"

"Be careful, I know. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

Elsa kisses my shoulder, which makes me wonder if I'm thinking what she's thinking, but then she nuzzles into my neck and I realize that she's not thinking what I'm thinking at all. To alleviate the confusion, she tells me, "Could you sing me a song?"

"With or without the ukulele?"

"With."

I grab the ukulele from behind me and bring it close to my chest. I'm not as good a singer as Elsa is, but she still loves hearing my voice anyway.

"Alright fine," I say, sitting up. "I've...been working on learning something. It's still a little rough, so if it's shitty please don't tell me. Just pretend you like it no matter what."

Elsa scoots over so that she's sitting next to me, and then rests her head on my shoulder. Even before I play anything, she's already sighing happily. With shakier hands than before, I begin strumming chords that I just learned like a week ago. God, I really hope they sound like music. After I play through the opening chords, I sing:

_Send me your location,  
__let's focus on communicating.  
__Cause I just need the  
__time and place to come through_

_Send me your location,  
_l_et's ride the vibrations.  
__I don't need  
__nothing else but you_

Elsa's head perks up and she interjects, "Oh I think I know this one."

I gasp, "Elsa Stark knows a song that _isn't _from some indie rock band? I'm _shocked!"_

She shuts me up, obviously and unexpectedly, with a tender kiss that defies any token of gratitude I've ever been given. It's a feeling so different that I struggle to find the words to describe it, or a time where she's kissed me like this before. This is new. Very new. And I like it a lot. "Keep singing," she tells me sweetly.

I begin strumming again, stumbling the first time through the only four chords in the song. When I feel like I've got my bearings again, I continue:

_At times I wonder why I fool with you,  
__but this is new to me, this is new to you.  
__Initially, I didn't want to fall for you,  
__gather my attention it was all for you._

_Soooo don't…take advantage.  
__Don't leave my heart damaged.  
__To understand that things go  
__a little bit better when you plan it._

Of course I learned this song to subtly tell Elsa some stuff I don't like saying bluntly. This whole loving each other thing (and not being afraid to say it) is still so new to us, and there are so many new ways to get it wrong- kind of like what happened today. I'm asking her to promise not to break my heart again, because I'm making that same promise to her.

Holy shit, I'm usually _not _this cheesy. Stupid Elsa making me feel things, making me figure out new ways to express my love for her.

Meanwhile, she just lays her head on my shoulder again, scratching my knee lovingly as if that's supposed to reassure me of how much she adores me. And it does, it really fucking does. I'm so in love with her, it's ridiculous.

I sing the rest of the song, with her by my side, feeling like all's right in the world again. And that nothing can bring us down.

_So won't you send me your location,  
__let's focus on communicating.  
__Cause I don't need…  
__Nothing else but you._

* * *

**A/N: At some point I should just bite the bullet and write a multi-chapter songfic.**


	49. Day 304

**Day Three Hundred and Four: The Sharp Right Turn**

**A/N: This is going to sound like it's coming out of nowhere, but this is exactly how I planned it...for the most part. Including this one, we are officially down to the last five chapters. **

* * *

"Three hundred and four days?!" Rapunzel says with wide eyes.

"That's what Elsa says," I respond. "And I'm not about to doubt her math skills."

Rapunzel starts counting to an unknown number with her fingers before throwing her hands up in defeat, almost smacking into a candy bar display. "Gosh, that sounds like forever. Has it _felt _like forever?"

"When we first started, yeah. But now most of the time we sorta just do boring couple stuff that isn't that interesting to write about. Honestly it feels more like a bunch of downtime between moments of cute shit and pointless drama."

She looks at me with questioning eyes and a head tilt (fuck I'm such a sucker for head tilts- wait shut up, she's straight and you already have a wonderful, attractive girlfriend). "Was it really pointless, though? I mean in the end, at least?"

I scoff, "Come on, you know there's a lot of stupid shit I said to her that I'd take back if I was given the chance. And let's not forget, you know…"

"Aurora," we both say at the same time.

For a second, we go back to just scanning the aisles, before Rapunzel speaks again, "Well, she was more of a stroke of bad luck if anything. I'm certain you didn't seek out Elsa's ex just to make her feel bad."

"Of course not, I'm not a fucking sociopath." Holy shit, there's so much soup here and I can't find a single goddamn can of chicken noodle.

"Exactly, you're a nice, sweet person who's trying to help her girlfriend feel better," Rapunzel says with a whimsical lilt in her voice. Ever since she'd gotten engaged, she's been much more animated and lively. Like a princess stepping outside of the castle for the first time.

Is this what I have to look forward to when Elsa and I get engaged? Am I going to look over-the-top happy all the time?

Wait..._when _Elsa and I get engaged? Hoo boy, let's not think that far ahead right now, Reinhart. Let's just focus on getting through the next two months with our psyches intact and without getting our covers blown.

No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get Olaf completely off our scent (gross). Any mention of Elsa, and I feel like he goes on high alert. Even if _he's _the one that brings her up. It feels like every mention of her is a test, and I'm always second-guessing each answer. Was I too harsh that it sounds like I'm lying? Was I too cheerful when talking about our week? Am I complaining enough about the room? Why can't he just get off my back?!

What's even worse now is that Olaf seems to feel that I'm "happier" now. Like my overall attitude is less "raging, spiteful bitch" and more "moody yet approachable human being". I sometimes even ask him questions because, surprise, I don't actually hate the guy. I can't even find him annoying because I _know _he's just doing his job. And I can't tell him that he's wrong about me seeming happier because that's how he feels. I can't change how he feels.

But I made a promise not to tell him anything (anymore) about Elsa, so I need something else.

"Got it!" Rapunzel exclaims.

I turn to look at her, wondering if she heard my thoughts and knows a way to get us out of the Olaf conundrum, but she's just smiling proudly with a can of chicken noodle soup in her hand.

Well, at least that's one thing I don't have to worry about.

I let out a breath, "Thanks Rapunzel. I knew I could count on you." I place a couple cans in our cart, right next to some ginger ale, a bottle of ibuprofen, and a new pot (the old one fell off the counter when Elsa and I had sex for the first and last time in the kitchen).

"You sure that two's gonna be enough?"

I nod, "On the rare occasions that Elsa _does _get sick, she bounces back real fast. Provided she takes care of herself, or someone takes care of her." I neglect to mention that Elsa's hilariously needy when she's sick, mostly because I like being one of the only people that knows that. "A couple bowls of soup and some ginger ale, and she's back on her feet the next day."

"I wish I had that power."

"Yeah, we all do," I reply.

Rapunzel points at the cart, "So then what's the pot for?"

I bite my lip, "Oh that's just cause…"

"Anna?!"

No. No fucking way. I know that voice. It's a peppy, goofy voice that I'm only supposed to hear on Sunday mornings.

With wide eyes, I turn to look down the aisle, and there he is: _Olaf._

Time slows down at an alarming pace, seconds feel like hours and we're all moving as if the atmosphere has turned into jelly, and yet my mind works in real-time. He's obviously gonna want to make awkward small talk (which is redundant), but what exactly would he want to know? Okay, well obviously he'll ask about Rapunzel since I never mention her in our check-ins- or any of my friends, really. It's mostly about Elsa.

Damn, imagine the kind of mental gymnastics we'd both have to do if Elsa was here instead of Rapunzel. I guarantee I'd say something to fuck us both over, and she'd have to roll with it...again. I'm sure we can't use the girlfriend/sister excuse this time, Olaf knows too much. And yet he doesn't know more than he needs to know.

Like about Rapunzel, for example.

Wait.

That's it!

Rapunzel's an unknown factor to him, and if I'm as "happy" as he thinks I am, then I've got the perfect non-Elsa excuse for it. I push my way through the jelly atmosphere and move my head to my best friend, someone who would do anything for me no questions asked. Especially since I'd do anything for _her _no questions asked. Ah, that reminds me of the time some creep asked her for nudes and I-

Holy shit, now is _not _the time, Reinhart!

As I open my mouth to speak, time accelerates back to normal, and I spurt out my genius plan to Rapunzel. "I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend."

Obviously, she's taken aback by that, and she looks at me like I just asked her to dump Eugene for me. Which, in a way, I kind of did. "What?!"

I nudge my head towards a steadily advancing Olaf, "He's the check-in guy."

There's more that I want to say to her about this stupid plan if we had time, but we don't have any. If I had any foresight at all, I would have mapped this whole thing out with Rapunzel, but of course I'm impulsive as fuck and the people I care for have to deal with that. Thankfully, because she's got much better critical thinking skills, Rapunzel knows exactly what I mean without me having to say it.

She lets out a light gasp, and then nods her head. Just in time for the man with the worst timing in the world to reach us.

"I thought that was you!" He says as if we're pals from college seeing each other for the first time since graduation. "What are the odds that we're both in the same store, at the same day, in the same aisle?!"

"Not small enough," I say with a smile, biting back my harsher words.

"Oh you're always such a jokester, I love that about you." His obnoxiously innocent face shifts from me to Rapunzel and, as I expect, he gasps loudly, "And who's this?"

I'm all set to make the introductions- since, you know, it's my dumb plan- but Rapunzel beats me to it. She stretches out her hand and with a smile that rivals Olaf's, she says, "I'm Rapunzel, Anna's girlfriend."

He returns the handshake. And for the first time outside my dreams, I see an expression from the check-in master that's not happiness or curiosity: he's taken by surprise...and also curious. "Girlfriend?" he says with narrowed eyes.

"Mmhmm," Rapunzel replies with a cheerfulness that should give nothing away.

"That's odd, Anna's never mentioned having a girlfriend. From what she's told me, I assume she's been single for a while."

Glass shatters inside my mind. Stupid _stupid _Anna, how could you forget that you told him you weren't seeing anyone. For fuck's sake, you told him that you spent Valentine's Day with _Elsa_.

Rapunzel, thankfully, is an amazing improviser and knows exactly how to fix my fuck-up. She smacks my arm and says, "You _really _need to stop telling people that you're single, dummy. It's gonna get you in trouble one day."

I rub my arm and say, "I think it just did."

"Remember when _Elsa _found about us? She wouldn't talk to you for a week." Oh damn, she's really running with this now. Although I'm sure Elsa would give me the silent treatment for more than a week if she found out I'd been lying to her.

Ah shit, I'm gonna need to tell her about this.

_Oh shit, is Rapunzel wearing her engagement ring?!_

In my wincing pain, I sneak a quick glance at Rapunzel's hands. There's no sign of a ring on her finger. Which means I've dodged a bullet that I should have taken directly between the eyes. "Hey that was in the past. We're doing just fine now."

Rapunzel sticks her tongue out, "You better be."

Olaf crosses his arms, lips pursed and eyeing Rapunzel like she's a famous painting, and he's trying to make sure that she's not a fake. The whole time, I'm rubbing my arm and trying to telepathically tell him to buy that Rapunzel is my secret girlfriend.

Buy it. Buy it, Olaf. Fucking buy it.

After an eternity, he says "Huh." and then shrugs his shoulders. His face returns to its neutral yet joyful state and he remarks, "Well I can't say that I'm not shocked. This is certainly a surprise."

"Is it, though? I don't tell you a lot about myself."

"True, but I guess I thought it would have come up at some point." He gasps, again, "_That's _why you've been so happy lately!"

Rapunzel looks at me and coos, "You have?"

I scoff and give her exaggerated eye-roll, "Don't rub it in."

"Oh this is so exciting!" He remarks like _he _just won $100,000. "You're very pretty, and Anna is _very_ lucky to have you."

"Well I'm very lucky to have her," I say, placing my hand on my best friend's while hovering over her skin just enough so we're not actually holding hands. I don't want to push my luck too much. Even though I've held her hand a ton of times before this.

"And I have to say Anna…" Olaf looks at Rapunzel and then back at me, and he hisses like he's about to deliver bad news. "I think you have a type."

Rapunzel snorts.

I close my eyes and frown, "You're...hilarious."

"Well I would _love _to hear more about you some day, but I'm sure that you two are very busy. And _I _have to make sure the deli doesn't run out of salami," Olaf says. I was betting on him being the type to talk your ear off at the grocery store. "It was so nice to finally meet you, Rapunzel."

"Likewise," she says, "Keep taking care of my girl, okay?"

Oh my gosh, Rapunzel you are such a dork. I didn't ask you to improvise _this _much.

It works, though, and Olaf lets out an all-too-familiar chuckle and says, "I'll try." He leaves us be, and just in case he looks back at us, Rapunzel slides a hand around my waist and rests her head on my shoulder. So I guess _this _is her comfort level. Although I should have known that, she's much more affectionate than I am.

We don't talk about this until we've checked out and gotten back to the car. As I turn the key and let out the biggest sigh of relief ever, she amusingly quips: "So should I call Eugene and tell him the engagement is off."

I groan, "Shut up...and thank you."

Rapunzel flashes me a smile and a wink. "Anytime, babe."

"I hate you."

* * *

_Knock KnockKnock Knock Knock_

"Come iiiiin," Elsa whines. Adorable.

I open her door, smiling at the mess of blankets she's covered herself in. A trash can full of tissues sits right next to her, with the nearly empty tissue box on her nightstand. The clothes she wore earlier in the morning are on the floor, which means she's almost naked under the covers. Which is bold, considering her fucking blinds are still open. God, she's so hopeless when she's sick.

The top part of the blanket bundle moves slightly, and the strands of blonde hair peeking out tell me that that's where her head must be. "Annaaaaa," she moans. Not in a way I'm used to.

I walk over to the bed and sit where I hope I'm not gonna squish her. I pull the blankets away from her face. Even with sweat causing her hair to stick to her forehead, prominent bags under her eyes, and flushed cheeks, she's still the second prettiest girl I've ever seen. The first being Healthy Elsa.

She sniffles and tells me with a frown, "I'm sick."

"Yeah, I know," I reply to her like a parent whose kid just told them that some dogs are brown. "That's why I went out to get you some soup."

"Soup?" she replies with what I think is an attempt at excitement. "You're a genius."

Huh, never heard that one before. I internalize the nice feeling that gives me, and then laugh, "No, I'm just a girl who knows exactly how to take care of her sick girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend?" Elsa asks with a frown.

"Mmhmm, she's smart, pretty, sweet, has blonde hair…"

"Rapunzel?"

"Actually yes." I have to tell her about the whole fake girlfriend incident anyway, and this is as perfect a transition as any. "Rapunzel _is _my girlfriend."

Elsa looks sad, like a puppy that just got their favorite toy taken away. Not the reaction I'm expecting. "What about me?" she says.

I take a face towel on her nightstand and wipe the sweat off her forehead before kissing it. It's warmer than I'm expecting. "I'm joking, of course you're my girlfriend."

She shivers and lets out a happy noise. "Good, I better be."

And here we go. I pull away and already start with the apologetic looks. "But...I _did _kinda pretend that Rapunzel was my girlfriend while we were at the grocery store."

Even while smothered by blankets, and looking like she's about to turn into a puddle any minute now, Elsa's look of suspicion still turns me to stone. It's about the reaction that I'm expecting, I just hope my other expectation of how mad she is doesn't turn out to be true. "Did Eugene break up with her?"

What? Oh. _Oh_...she thinks...okay. I shake my head, "No, th-they're fine, it was just a 'me' problem. We ran into Olaf while we were shopping."

"Oh no, is it Sunday?" She makes a move like she's about to sit up, and I'd set her back down if she even made it a centimeter off the bed. "Carry me?" she asks.

I shake my head, "It's not Sunday, don't worry. But he was heading down my aisle, and I was already thinking of ways to get him off our backs, and...well...Rapunzel was with me, so I asked her to be my girlfriend."

"Oh…" She sniffles, but doesn't say anything else.

Ugh, I really hope I'm not fucking things up again. I don't want a sickly Elsa to have a panic attack. "She was okay with it. But if you're not, then I'll call the whole thing off. In fact, I won't even bring it up anymore. Are...are you mad at me?" Please don't be mad at me, Elsa. I don't want to make you feel worse.

Another sniffle, and she fishes a hand out of her blankets to grab another tissue. They're agonizingly slow movements, at least in my mind. If I didn't already know that she lacked a single spiteful bone in her body, I'd say she's doing this on purpose. After a loud and mucusy blowing of her nose, she throws the tissue in her trash can and shakes her head slightly, "No, I'm not mad. I trust you."

Holy shit, what a relief.

I reach over to pull more hairs away from her face and smile, "Thank you, my angel."

She's as giddy as her body will let her be, which equates to a shoulder shimmy and a smile. "You're not in love with her?"

"Of course not. Rapunzel's my best friend, but I don't think I'll ever love her the way that I love you."

"Good, because I'll fight her. Totally." Elsa tries to look tough, but the sniffling and the fact that she can't even make a fist undercuts that. "No one steals my girl."

"And no one will," I reassure her, planting another kiss on her (wow) already sweaty forehead. Figures that the only time she's able to warm herself up quickly is when she's sick. "Alright, time to nurse you back to health. Do you want your soup now? Or do you want to rest some more?"

"Soup please," she responds immediately.

I chuckle, "Okay, give me like ten minutes. Can you last that long?"

"Can you leave your arm here so I can cuddle it?"

"I kinda need both to make the soup. But here…" I unbutton my shirt and bundle it up, placing it next to her head. "You can use that." I'm sure it's safe to cook soup while shirtless.

She pulls a hand out to grab my shirt, and it disappears into the blankets, only a sliver of it remaining visible next to her nose. "Loooove youuu," Elsa says.

I stand up and say, "I love you too." I close her blinds before walking out of her room, and let out a sigh of relief. That could have gone so much worse, I'm really glad that she's grown to understand my dumb decisions. I'm glad that she trusts me. How many more ways can I show Elsa how much I appreciate her? I guess a bowl of soup is one other way.

In a hurry to check on her, I put all my stuff on the kitchen table before going into her room. I take out the bottle of ibuprofen, put the ginger ale in the fridge, and place the new pot on the stovetop. While I'm grabbing the can of chicken noodle soup, I also pick up my phone so that I can text Rapunzel and tell her that we can continue to pretend to date.

And that's when I see it.

One missed call, and one voicemail.

It's from an unknown number, and maybe I shouldn't listen to the voicemail in case it's a vengeful spirit telling me I have seven days left to live. But I'm curious, okay? Besides, I'm sure that one voicemail isn't going to change my...

My...

Oh my god.

As I let the voicemail play, I have to sit down because the room's spinning way too fucking fast. My heart's pounding so hard I can feel it in my brain, and my body stiffens. A shaky breath escapes my lips as I hear the voice of a ghost through my phone. No, worse than a ghost.

It's my mom.


	50. Day 308

**Day Three Hundred and Eight: The Calm**

I...

...should be asleep.

No, I _need _to be asleep.

An hour ago, I had my arms wrapped around a beautiful woman, sharing a blanket, trying not to seem too creepy while smelling her lavender shampoo. And now I'm sitting in the loft, arms wrapped around a familiar pillow, legs stretched out on the sofa, looking out at buildings and streets I've seen hundreds of times.

Is it darker than usual? The city feels darker than usual. Or maybe this is usually what it looks like at 11 PM.

No, I know what Arendelle looks like at 11 PM. Back in high school, 11 PM was when I _started _thinking about going to sleep. It's always looked like this, standing still yet awake until everyone's decided to turn in for the night. Arendelle doesn't sleep until everyone else does. What does that even mean, Anna?

I'm only like eighty percent sure I did my check-in today. I think I told Olaf to leave me alone, or he saw that I was...different, and decided that today was going to be one of our "short and sweet" days, as he likes to call it. Well, that's not how I felt today went. It felt more like...like...fuck, why is my head not working right now?

Whatever, I'm just talking to talk, saying whatever comes out of my dumb head so that I don't have to think about tomorrow.

Tomorrow…

I'm gonna see my mom _tomorrow_.

I'm gonna see my fucking _mom _tomorrow.

For days, I agonized over that goddamn voicemail, replaying my mom's words wondering if she had the right number and if we could talk. And yesterday, I finally bit the bullet and texted her, asking when and where. Stupid, _stupid _Anna. What the fuck is wrong with you?

After sixteen years, I...I didn't even go looking for her. I dreamed about it, sure, and definitely had nightmares about it, but I never did anything about them. And now she's here. And I'm seeing her tomorrow after _sixteen years_. And it's making me feel so many things that I can't think straight, let alone sleep.

Every time I close my eyes, I think back to that day: my eighth birthday when she walked out the door for good. I see the red balloon getting caught on one of the wheels of her luggage. I see my dad not even trying to go after her. I want to know everything, I want to know why she left, I want some fucking answers. And I'm gonna get them tomorrow.

So, why don't I want them?

Why do I have this urge to rip this pillow in half? To pick a fight with some chatty bitch at the bar so I can get locked up for a night? To get out of here and drive to somewhere far away from where no one can see or hear me, and scream until my voice gives out? Why do I have this urge to wake Elsa up and ask her to hold me as tight as she can for the whole day and never let me go?

I hear Elsa's bedroom door open and she walks out, hopefully to pull me out of the torrent of emotions I've thrown myself into. In the dark, I can still see the pained look of sympathy on her face.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," I reply. And like it isn't blatantly obvious, I add: "Can't sleep."

"I know." She walks towards me, and I'm half-expecting her to tell me to come back to bed, but instead she rubs a hand along my back and says, "Scoot."

I bring my legs to my chest and look at Elsa. She shakes her head, and I raise an eyebrow, wondering what she wants me to do. There's more than enough room on the couch for the both of us. And then she nudges me forward gently so that I'm sitting off the armrest. Ah, now I get it.

I scoot forward and concede the armrest to Elsa, her legs appear on either side of me. When I feel hands move to my waist, I scoot back and lean into her embrace. Yeah, this is...this is exactly what I need right now.

"Talk to me, Anna," she says softly. "Please?"

Oh, gladly. It's not like I've been keeping this craziness away from Elsa, it's just that everything finally hit me when my head hit the pillows tonight. That doesn't change the fact that everything on my mind is rough, and full of fire and flames.

I sigh, "I...am I doing the right thing, Elsa? Going to see my mom, I mean."

Elsa takes my hand in hers, and after a pause, she says, "Whether it's right or wrong depends on how tomorrow goes. But regardless, I think what you're doing is really brave. And you deserve some answers from her."

I sigh, "I was kind of hoping for a more direct answer."

"I know," she says, "And I wish I could tell you everything you need to hear, but I've never been in this situation before."

"It's not your fault. You grew up with two parents that loved you," I say with a pitiful laugh, one that actually kicks me in the gut pretty hard.

Elsa squeezes my hand. "Anna, _no. _You can't think like that."

It doesn't get past me the fact that Elsa neglected to correct me. She never knew my mom (hell, I barely did), and all she knows about my dad is that he cut me off and kicked me out of the house. I don't think she sees where the love is coming from, either. Regardless, I don't want to put her in too uncomfortable of a position. I rub my thumb along her hand and redirect, "Still can't believe my dad gave my fucking number to her. You'd think he'd have the decency to ask me first before doing that."

If Elsa wants to go back to discussing my self-deprecation, she doesn't say it. "Yeah, that's...I don't understand the logic in that," she said instead.

"How did they even find- you know what, it doesn't matter right now. I guess I'll just ask her tomorrow. Fuck, I have so much to ask. So much to say to her."

"I know."

"I...ugh, yeah." I can't find anything to say, which doesn't make sense because my mind was so full of words earlier. But now there's nothing, and yet I still don't have any peace of mind. Thankfully, Elsa's here. She's holding me tight, stroking my hair, and speaking when I don't know what to say. She always knows how to clear my harshest storms.

"How are you feeling right now?"

"Hmm?" Wow, great answer to a really simple question, dumbass.

"Where's your mind at?" She repeats unfazed.

My mind. Fuck, where do I even start? I shut my eyes tightly for a second before answering. "It's everywhere right now, Elsa. What do you even want me to say?" Too mean, you're being too mean to her. "I'm sorry, that was really mean."

"It wasn't, don't worry." Elsa kisses the top of my head and continues. "I don't want you to _say_ anything, I just want you to be okay, my love. Which is why I'm going to help you any way that I can. You and I, we're a team, which means we're there for each other in the bright spots _and _the dark ones."

Well, this is definitely a dark one. I search through my previous thoughts, trying to find a common thread, a way to express what I want. What I'm going through. Finally, after an eternity, I find something again. I open my eyes and I speak, softly and painfully, "I wanna run away."

Elsa's hand stops stroking my hair. "Where?" It's an innocent question, but I can feel the hesitation in her voice, the seriousness, the pain. Oh, she must think I want to run away without her.

"You and me, I want us to run away. Out of the city, away from this stupid contest. I want us to go somewhere that we don't have to deal with any more _bullshit. _I don't want to _deal _with these problems, I just want them to go away. I don't want this, Elsa, I really don't. Why now? Why did she have to find me now? Why did she have to find me at all?!"

I turn over, resting my head on her chest. Elsa tightens her embrace, she feels so warm. It's nice.

"Oh Anna…" she said gently, "I'm so sorry this is happening to you."

I wrap my arms around her waist so that, even if this is another twisted dream, she won't go anywhere. And I say something that didn't even cross my mind until now, something that I didn't even expect to be worried about. "What if she doesn't like me?"

Given the pause before she responds, I can tell that Elsa wasn't expecting that either. "What do you mean?"

"What if she sees how her daughter turned out and she doesn't like what she sees? What if I end up disappointing her?"

"Anna, if there's anyone that should be disappointed, it should be you." Elsa sounds like she's hurt, and I really hope that's not because of me. "No mother should ever abandon their daughter, and then leave her wondering why. She's been gone almost your whole life, and it is criminal of her to think that she can just come back into it so easily. You turned out just fine without her, Anna, don't let her take that from you."

Wow, I've never heard Elsa be so critical like this towards anyone before. I'm so grateful that she's completely on my side.

But she's wrong.

"Come on Elsa, you know I didn't turn out fine," I mutter.

Elsa gasped, I can feel it in her chest, "Of course you did."

And then, finally, words come to me. Hurtful, disgusting words against myself that bubble up to the surface like toxic waste that's been festering for sixteen years. Words I've thought about in passing but never latched on to until today.

Elsa doesn't expect it, I sure as hell don't either. And maybe I should take one goddamn second to wonder whether I should do this, but I don't. I let the dam break.

"No, I _didn't_. I'm a twenty-four year old jaded piece of shit who decided she was too good for college, and doomed herself to a life of bouncing from dead-end job to dead-end fucking job. I'm a bitch who acts out because I know that's the only way people would pay attention to me. I'm mean, stubborn, rude, and even though I want people to know I exist, I _hate _when they try to understand me. I used to hate when people got close, but I hated being alone. So I jumped from girl to girl even though I knew I never wanted to commit to anything because it was terrifying. Because I didn't know what I wanted, what I deserved. And nothing- I mean, _nothing_\- got any better until I met you, and I realized that I was always looking for something. I didn't know that all I ever really needed was _this_!" I press myself against her again, so fast that I feel her let out a soft grunt. "And...I still pushed you away. I had what I wanted, and I fucked it up by pushing you away."

It takes me a little bit to realize that the water in my eyes isn't because of some nonexistent allergies. Of course they're tears, of course I'm going to cry. They start rolling down my cheek, and I lift up my head to keep from staining Elsa's shirt too bad. And I scoot higher so that I'm resting on her shoulder.

"I did not turn out f-_fine,_" I say, trying to still sound like I'm tough, even if the voice crack and subsequent sniffle give that away. "I turned into a fucked up girl with a fucked up past, who doesn't know how to do anything but f-fuck things up."

It hurts to let this all out. It hurts even more that I'm still trying to tell myself that the words aren't true. But at least I had the privilege of connecting my childhood to my current, shitty personality. Some people have to wait for a therapist to do that for them.

I hope my mom's happy.

And Elsa...I'm expecting more silence, and more of me resisting the urge to just bawl like a fucking baby. I'm expecting Elsa to just continue stroking my back and let me get this shit out of my system. But that doesn't happen.

Okay, so she _does _let me cry for a little bit, but after that Elsa lays a finger on my chin and tips my head up so that I'm looking at her. A less emotionally wrecked me would be turned on by this. Especially if she- oh, yeah there it is. She's kissing me. Softly, slowly, gently, tenderly, all those other nice-sounding adverbs. My entire body lights up, but I'm left wondering why this is happening.

She pulls away, and I look at her dumbfounded. And she speaks in a way that forces me to pay attention, although that might also be because her finger's still on my chin.

"Do not let your trauma define you, Anna."

I blink, wondering where that urge to cry went. "I- um...what?"

Elsa begins to stroke my hair, and I watch her with an innocence and curiosity I didn't know I was capable of. Again, she gives me something I never knew I wanted. "Anna Reinhart, you are greater than the circumstances you grew up in. You're strong, assertive, kind, loyal to the ones that you decide to hold close, smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I've never met anyone with such a forgiving heart as you."

I scoff, "Me? Forgiving?"

She nods, "Why do you think we're still here? You could have left at any time and instead you and I are holding each other, and our relationship is stronger than it was the first time around. Of course, we're also _lying _about our relationship, but I'm over that...mostly. All the great memories we've shared this year, the love we've shown each other, they never would have happened if you hadn't forgiven me."

I open my mouth to speak, to protest even though I don't know how to explain why Elsa's wrong. And that's probably because she's right and I'm beating myself up too much to accept that.

So, she continues, and I'm grateful she does.

"Whatever happens tomorrow, whether you decide to see your mother or not, whether your conversation is good or not, it doesn't change who you are and what you have. You're still Anna, still the woman I fell in love with, still the one I want to wake up to every day of my life."

Ah, there they are. There are the tears again.

One line down my cheek, one sniffle, and then the floodgates open and I'm sobbing right onto Elsa's neck, staining the collar of her t-shirt. I want to tell her thank you and that I needed desperately to hear those words. I want to express that I'm finally getting to this point where I'm okay, but all that comes out are painful cries and hiccups. And Elsa just holds me, lets me cry, says nothing with her lips, but the stroking of her fingers tells me that I don't need to say anything right now. This is enough.

When I finally do find the strength to speak, despite how much my lungs are burning and my throat feels like it got kicked by a horse, all I end up saying is, "Please don't leave me…"

Through my shaky breaths, I can hear her say, "I'm not going anywhere."

And she doesn't. She holds me in her arms, letting me cry for...god knows how long. All I know is that we stay there for the rest of the night, laying on the couch with me curled up and using the top of her chest as a pillow.

Elsa's arms stay wrapped around me, never letting me go.

* * *

**A/N: My alternate title for this chapter was "Anna Has Serious Mommy Issues".**


	51. Day 309

**Day Three Hundred and Nine: I Seek the Truth**

I've done a lot of crazy stuff in my life. I've also done a lot of dumb stuff in my life. But this? Shit, I don't even know _how _to describe this. It could be the worst decision I've ever made, or it could be the best.

Okay, probably not the best. I'll never make a better decision than being with Elsa. Unless she had a secret identical twin, and I decided to date both of them at the same time. Would Elsa be cool with that? Probably not, right? I mean if they were the exact same person, it _might _be fine. Would it be polygamy if I was dating her clone at the exact same time? Morally speaking, could I-

Stop it, Anna. You're doing that thing again where you distract yourself before doing something big and life-altering.

I've been in front of this door for a couple of minutes now, and I know that the longer I wait, the more awkward this is going to get. But...my mom. She's right behind this door. Right behind the front door of this all-too-goddamn quaint, one-story house in just another Arendelle suburb. For the past few years, she's been living just an hour away from me.

How many times have we crossed paths and I just didn't know it? Would she know what I looked like in a crowd of people? No...no, she only started looking for me this year.

Which means before that, I was nothing to her.

Ugh, I can't think that way right now. Not when I've already gotten this far. Elsa's right, I can't let her downplay all the progress I've made without her. For eight years, she was my mom and...now I'm going to figure out if, on some level, she still is.

With one deep breath, I muster up all my courage, and knock on the door.

I wait maybe ten or fifteen seconds, and just as I'm about to knock again, the door unlocks. It swings open, and...well, there she is. Long, brown hair that looks recently dyed, bags under her deep green eyes that I guess never went away, and a smile like she's looking at her long-lost daughter.

My mom lets out a breath, and seemingly relieved and happy at the same time, she speaks my name: "Anna."

I wonder how long it's been since she's said that.

It's too soon to tell how I'm feeling right now, all I know is that I'm not about to hug her and cry happy tears saying how much I've missed her. I keep a straight face, and for the first time in nearly two decades, I speak her name: "Ashley."

The way her smile falters for a little bit, I can tell she wasn't expecting that.

* * *

She leads me inside the house, it's all so nice and cozy but in a nauseating way. There are puffy couches in the living room, with a glass coffee table and a fireplace. A bunch of houseplants sit all around the interior like boring guests at a party. And the place smells faintly like vanilla. But there are no pictures, none that I can see anyway. Not even in the glass case full of chinaware.

Which bothers me since there's no way my mom lives here by herself. But what bothers me more is how much it looks like our home. Before, well, everything.

She offers a tour of the house, but I decline. She then asks if I want some coffee, and I ashamedly say yes. It's like ten in the morning, and I want to- no, I have to- be awake for this. And now we're sitting across from each other at her smallish kitchen table, both nursing two mugs full of coffee. Neither of us has taken a drink yet.

I make the first move, bringing the mug to my lips. Fuck, it's really good coffee.

My mom speaks the first words, "Thank you, again, for agreeing to talk to me. It's...I know you didn't have to. You've grown so much, I'm glad you let your hair grow out. I-I wish I did that when I was your age."

Does she even know how old I am?

I shrug but hold my tongue, still deciding whether I want to be a bitch or a professional. "You didn't really say in the voicemail, so why did you want to talk to me?"

Again, she looks disappointed at me not wanting to make small talk. At least I know for sure that that's not what I'm here for. So it looks like she has to switch up her entire plan. She takes a drink and sighs, "Anna, I just...I'm sorry. For a lot of things. Above all, I'm sorry for walking out on you and your father. I shouldn't have...you were just a child, I shouldn't have left you."

"You're just realizing that now? After sixteen years?" I snap back, putting a tally in my "bitch" category. I'm not sure yet if that's how I want to play this, but I can't take those words back now.

My mom frowns and looks down at my hands for some reason. "No, all this time I've carried this guilt of leaving you. Trust me."

I scoff, "_Trust _you? How can-" No, come on Anna. Don't let her get to you. You have to prove that you're better now, that you turned out just fine without her. I think it's best we _don't _put too many points into being a bitch. I cross my arms and regroup, "Why did you leave?"

She sighs, "William and I...we met our senior year of college and got married right after graduation. We thought it could work, but I guess we didn't take enough time to really know each other because we started to fight. Constantly. Neither of us wanted to leave, though, because we were stubborn and it would look bad for both of our families." I resist the urge to scoff, I didn't come here to hear about my parents' marriage problems. But there's gotta be a point to this, and I _guess _I have to be patient. Ugh.

My mo takes another drink, her eyes narrow a bit as if she's in pain. "It wasn't...we loved each other, but it was clear that we weren't meant to be together in the long run. We wouldn't admit that, though, so we tried everything we could to salvage our relationship including...having you."

My hand grips the coffee mug so tight it feels like it's going to crack. I was a last resort baby, they only had me to save their marriage. Are you fucking kidding me?

She sees that I'm holding back my anger, which of course she does because she's _my fucking mom_. She takes a hand off her mug and places it tentatively in front of her, "Anna, I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I loved you. So very much. Out of all the sh...horrible decisions I've made, I never regretted having you."

"But you still left," I say, restraining myself.

I can see the apprehension in her eyes, the fear over not knowing what she needs to say for me to forgive her. This power over her should make me feel great, but instead it's nauseating. It doesn't make sense. After a moment of silence, she speaks again, "I blamed myself. For _everything_. I blamed myself for not loving your father enough, for not making our marriage work, for not being the mother you needed, and I just couldn't take it anymore. The breaking point was so fuc...it was ridiculous. I got the wrong flavor of cake for your birthday, and that's when I just cracked. I felt like I had to leave before I made everything worse, so I did."

Yeah, that _is _ridiculous. Out of all the things I remember about my eighth birthday, the one thing I don't remember is how that fucking cake tasted. "I never ate the cake," I confessed.

She lets out a pitiful laugh, taking her hand back and laying her head against it. "Of course you didn't," she said quietly.

I want to remain stoic in order to show her that we're still far from being okay, but it's getting harder to now that I'm learning the whole story. Especially when she talks about blaming herself, something that I'm far too familiar with. And relating to her is the last thing I expected to do.

"Anna, I don't expect your forgiveness," she says as some way to get us back on track. "Letting me speak to you is more than enough for me. I missed you. I've missed my daughter _so _much, and I know you may not consider me your mother anymore and that's fine. But I still-"

"No."

She blinks, there are tears in her eyes right now because of course there are, "...n-no? What do you mean?"

I take another drink and shake my head, finally overcoming that nauseating feeling. At least for the moment. I now have the stomach to say what I've come here to say, what I've been holding on to for sixteen goddamn years. Bitch be damned, I deserve to tell my mom how I feel.

"You don't get to play the 'I miss my daughter' card. You lost that right when you walked out that door on my eighth fucking birthday. I spent every night for a _year _looking out our window hoping that I'd finally see your car pull into the driveway. I always told dad to leave a plate out for you during dinner. I wrote my own goddamn cards for Mother's Day because I hated being one of the only people in my class who didn't have one. Every Christmas, every birthday, I'd hope to get _something _from you, and I never got anything. So don't you _dare _say that you missed me when you didn't even try to make the fucking effort to show that."

The captive tears fall along my mom's cheeks as she responds with a strained voice, "I wanted to, Anna. So badly. But I was afraid, even when you were still a child, of what you would think of me. I didn't know if I was ready to see you or hear from you."

"And what makes you think you're ready now?" Ah fuck, now we're both crying. "What makes you think _I'm _ready?"

"I don't know," she says, "All I know is that I couldn't keep hiding from my past, from you. You're my daughter."

I close my eyes, "Please stop…"

When I don't finish my request, she tries to do it for me, "Stop what? Stop calling you my daughter? Stop talking completely? Tell me what you want Anna, and I'll do it."

"I want you to _not _leave me on my eighth fucking birthday!" I snap back.

This is supposed to be the part where she's stunned into silence. This is supposed to be the part where we can't say anything else to each other, and I storm out without saying goodbye. But neither of those things happen. My mother lets that vicious comment pass, or maybe internalizes it, and she responds, "And I wish I could give you that, but I can't. What can I do now? Please tell me."

"Fine, you know what you can do? You can f…"

...

I can't say it.

I can't tell my mom to fuck off.

And it's not because this is her house, so it wouldn't make sense for her to do that. It's also because of the truth. The stupid, simple, truth that I told myself I didn't understand because I wanted to feel hurt, because I didn't want to heal.

The reason I can't hurt my mom is that...goddamn it, she's my mom.

The memory of her walking out the front door is accompanied by the memories of her telling me stories so I could go to sleep, taking me to the park so I could jump off the swing and pretend I'm a superhero, helping me build a cocoon for my science fair project. All these things...she did them with a smile. She never once showed me how bad it really was for her.

So, I hold back. I slouch in my chair feeling so emotionally and physically drained, and I ask her something that I already know the answer to: "You can...tell me why I don't hate you."

That gets my mom to perk up for a moment. She wipes her tears on her sleeve, and I do the same so now we're a couple of assholes just smudging up our faces. "You don't hate me?" she asks, voice cracking in the middle.

"I mean I should...right?"

"I don't know," she replies. "I guess so. It would- I think it would make sense to."

"Yeah…" I finally take some time to figure out how I'm really feeling, and where my head is at. It hurts, definitely, and my body feels like it's just been dragged through the mud. My palms hurt from digging my nails into them, and my eyes are so sore from these goddamn tears. And of course I can feel my heart pounding in my head. But I feel something else too. Some sort of warmth on my chest, similar to the warmth of Elsa's hand. And it reminds me that I know what needs to be said.

"I don't hate you," I say officially, "But that doesn't mean I forgive you."

My mom nods solemnly, "I understand."

Well, here goes nothing. I rub the back of my neck and let out a sigh, pretending that I've reverted back to my stubborn hardass bitch self. I tell my mom, "But I'd like to try."

She looks at me, searching for any sign that I might be lying, that this is a cruel but warranted joke. When all she sees is painful earnestness, she allows herself to smile fully. "Thank you, Anna. You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that."

Actually, I'm pretty sure I do. I scoff, "Well I mean...after sixteen years, I better know the words I want to say, right?"

The conversation gets way less dramatic from there as we start by piecing together at least the last year. I tell her about Elsa, but not about the contest just in case she turns out to be a spy working for Mr. Arendelle. I know that's a long shot, but then again I'm learning a lot of new things today. For example...she remarried. And she and her husband adopted a kid.

I have a half-sister.

Irony of all ironies, she just turned eight a few weeks ago.

"I put away all of our pictures because I thought they might be too painful for you to see. And I didn't want them to factor into your decision of whether or not you'd want anything to do with me anymore," my mom explains.

I should be way more pissed off at that, but the fact that I'm here today means she wasn't trying to replace me. It's still a really weird move, but whatever. I'll probably get over it.

"They get back in an hour. Would you like to meet them?"

I shake my head immediately, "One thing at a time. Alright?"

"That's fair."

She approves of me and Elsa's relationship and says that she's glad that I have someone that makes me happy. Maybe someday I'll tell her the fun, convoluted way we ended up together. Part of me expects that they'd get along just fine. They have a lot in common.

Fuck, I really hope I didn't end up dating my mom.

"How did you even get my number? Did dad give it to you?"

She nods, "William and I have been talking lately too, just trying to bury the hatchet. I don't have any more feelings for him, but it was nice to catch up. He doesn't like talking about you, though. Did something happen?"

I roll my eyes, "It's a long, fucked up story. Let's just say you have a better chance of being forgiven than he does."

My mom winces, but doesn't try to change my mind. Good. I'm not trying to mend our family back together with duct tape or whatever. At least my mom had the balls to apologize. Maybe sixteen years from now, my dad will do the same.

I don't tell her about high school, the dumb shit I got myself into, my horrible relationship decisions, or...well anything about my life growing up. _If _I decide that maybe I'd like to keep talking to my mom, these are things we can talk about. And she understands, of course, even though I can tell she's dying to know what I've been up to. I know she wants the chance to have her daughter back.

But it's hard. And it's going to be hard for a _very _long time.

We both understand that, so when we decide it's time to part ways again...goodbye isn't as tearful and heartfelt as it could be.

We're back to how we started the day, with me by the front door and my mom smiling at me, relieved. The difference is that the air feels a couple of tons lighter. I let out a breath of fresh air, "Well this was…"

"Yeah," she responds.

"Umm...I don't know, I guess- I mean, you have my number now so…"

My mom nods, "Y-yeah! Yeah, I can just text you if you ever want to talk again."

"Sure. Yeah. And I don't know, maybe I'll reply." God, why does this feel like the end to the most awkward date ever? Look, we didn't burn any bridges today and I finally got some answers that I've been waiting for sixteen years to hear. All things considered, this was realistically the best-case-scenario. "I should head back," I say, deciding to put an end to this talk that's going nowhere, "Elsa's waiting for me."

"Yeah, a-and I should go make lunch," she replies.

"So...yeah. Bye." I turn around and walk back to the car, parked right next to hers on the driveway. At least I think it's hers, most likely.

"Anna?" I hear her say once I've opened my door.

I look at her and say, "What is it?"

She opens her mouth to say something but decides against it at the last minute. I think I might know what it was going to be. She sighs and says instead, "Drive safe. Okay?"

I nod and tell her, "I will."

* * *

Honestly, I don't think I've ever been happier to hear the click of our hotel door opening until now. I stuff my keycard back into my pocket and open the door, immediately greeted by the smell of pizza and the sight of the best woman in the world.

As soon as she sees me, Elsa begins to speak. "Hey! I couldn't tell if you were feeling okay or not from the text you sent, so I decided to err on the side of caution. I bought your favorite pizza, I restocked the freezer with ice cream, and I don't know what beer you drink so I just bought the one that reminded me of you. Is that okay? Are...are you okay?"

The obvious answer is "No", and I'm sure Elsa's expecting that from the way I've opened the door without any confetti, trumpets, doves, or all that other shit. But I can't bring myself to say no.

Not just because I feel like I've exhausted all my words for today, but because seeing Elsa keeps that from being the truth.

Wordless, I walk over to Elsa, place both my hands on her cheek, and kiss her like I've just gotten back from war. She gasps at first but then sighs happily, resting her hands along my waist. It's perfect, she's perfect. Even when I don't want anything in the world, even when it feels like I don't know where I'm going, I have Elsa. And she'll always be enough.

I close my eyes and part from her lips before she thinks I want more, and I pull her into my embrace tightly. Finding my voice, at least for now, I tell her, "What would I do without you?"

She holds me in the same way and says softly, "You'll always have me."


	52. Day 335

**Day Three Hundred and Thirty-Five: Nurse Reinhart**

**A/N: ...fuck it, here's a bonus chapter. **

* * *

Punch, kick, smack, other noises. I'm attacking a punching bag again, you get the idea.

I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Elsa and I have a month left for this contest. I'm also having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that less than a month ago, I saw my mother for the first time in sixteen years. But that one's...I don't want to think too much about that one.

It's not that I'm avoiding her, or trying to repress it all (Elsa's made sure that I at least, ick, talk about my feelings), it's just _weird. _All of it, and I wish I had a fancier word to describe what this feels like, but all I've got is "weird".

We tried with the whole texting thing and that never felt right since I don't text anyone more than like two years older than me. So instead we agreed to _try _meeting up once a month and see how that goes. Our first reunion (re-reunion?) is next month, and I'm already stressing about it. Even though I really shouldn't be, there's nothing else she can say that can turn my whole world upside down.

So, anyway, to counter the things in my life that don't make a lot of sense right now (not just my mom, but also what the hell I'm doing with my life), I'm clinging on to what _does _make sense. My friends make sense, nothing's wrong on that front and Rapunzel's asked me to be her maid of honor, so that's exciting. And totally something I'm prepared to do. I know I've got to plan some sort of bachelorette party, and uh...something about being nice and supportive.

Okay fine, we'll also file that under "Things That Don't Make Sense".

Hitting this bag makes sense, though. I'm back to a hundred percent, and it feels so good to not hold back. Or, at least, it would be if I didn't hesitate every time I hit a left jab. Even after rehab, that's still a mental block I need to fight through. In time, I tell myself, in time. At the very least, hitting something is simple and gives me immediate satisfaction. It's something I can control, and I'm damn fine with that.

And Elsa and I make sense. Ironically, our relationship might be the most uncomplicated thing in my life right now. Obviously she still has her own hesitations about the lying thing, but the closer we get to that deadline, the easier it gets for her. Still, I feel like I need to do something for her when this is all over. Something to show how much I appreciate keeping our relationship a secret. Hell, she even made a Saturday night checklist to make sure we have our stories straight, and there's nothing about us or the room that would indicate we're a couple.

Speaking of Elsa, I'm just about done here, and there's no one else I'd rather see right now than her. And not just because she said she'd be making lunch while I was at the gym.

* * *

As I open our door, I hear the oven door closing and Elsa speaking. Which is odd, because I don't remember planning for visitors today. My questions get answered when I see Elsa with her back to me, placing baked potatoes on a plate, and leaning her ear towards her phone on the counter.

"_I'm just saying that it feels like your publisher doesn't appreciate you enough."_

Elsa took off her oven mitts and sighed, "I don't know. I think they're doing the best they can. It's just been a rough few months, that's all."

"_We _all_ have a rough few months sometimes, my little snow."_

I finally make my presence known as I snort and say, "Heheh, 'little snow'."

Elsa turns around with a pleasantly excited smile on her face. And I'm assuming Iduna's excited too from the way she gasps and asks, _"Is that Anna?!"_

"Yes, Iduna, it's me," I reply, hoping that my voice carries through to the other side of the kitchen. Elsa wipes her hands on her flowery apron, picks up her phone, and walks over to me. Despite how sweaty and gross I am she still finds me attractive enough to, after putting her phone down, place her hands on my waist and kiss me. We both mouth 'Hi' to each other, and as much as I'm enjoying this, I also really want to put on more comfortable clothes. Iduna, it seems, has other ideas.

"_And how's my future daughter-in-law doing?"_

Elsa's eyes go wider than I've ever seen them before, and she turns to her phone to scream, "Mother!" Meanwhile, my stomach feels like it's going to implode from the laughing fit I'm trying to suppress. I know I should be embarrassed too- and I am- but I'm also gut-achingly amused.

"_Oh you know I'm just kidding," _Iduna says with a possible grin on her face. _"How are you doing, Anna?"_

"Good. I just got back from the gym," I reply.

"_Oh, wonderful! And are you wearing a compression sleeve?"_

"A what now?"

"_It's a sleeve that you slip on to your wrist that compresses it. It'll help with inflammation, especially after your fracture."_

Huh, well now I know that exists. "Umm...yeah, I'll make sure to buy one." Even though it feels like she wanted me to say yes, and that I have a chest full of backup sleeves. Wow would you look at that, I'm much more worried about disappointing Elsa's mom than my own mom.

Thankfully, Iduna doesn't sound disappointed about my lack of preparedness. Or at least, if she is, she's not going to tell me. Iduna always struck me as one of those compartmentalizing, passive-aggressive types. _"I hope you do! Oh wait, now that I have your attention, could I steal you away for a minute? Elsa, is that okay?"_

Elsa and I look at each other, both equally unaware of what's about to happen. She shrugs and says so that only I can hear, "I need to finish making lunch anyway."

"Okay," I reply to her. "I can take your phone in my room since I need to change."

Her eyebrows raise a little, and I can tell she wants to say something flirtatious, but we're technically not alone right now. Instead, she nods and picks her phone up to say, "Yeah mom, that's fine."

* * *

I close my door, holding Elsa's phone as gently as possible as if Iduna would actually feel pain if I dropped it. As I walk to my nightstand to set down the phone, I ask her, "Is everything okay?"

"_Oh, everything's fine. I was just wondering if you'd thought a little more about what we talked about on Christmas Eve."_

I peel off my shirt and wipe off any excess sweat as my brain cycles through memories of Christmas Eve. What could...oh. "You mean about the whole 'being a nurse' thing?"

"_Mmhmm. Applications are opening soon at Arendelle University, and I'm just seeing if you're still thinking about it."_

God, this takes me back to those meetings I had with my guidance counselor back in high school. She'd always ask me when I was going to get serious about going to college, and I would always tell her to bite me. Teenage Anna was such a bitch. I take off my socks and immediately throw them both in my laundry basket, one of them makes it in and the other hangs on the edge. "I don't know, it hasn't been on my mind much," I confess, "But now that I _have _time to think about it, I just...I don't know what I want."

And here I thought that I wouldn't have to think about my future today.

After a little bit of silence (in which I decide to say fuck it and go braless, immediately covering up with my shirt from last night), Iduna replies, _"Anna, you _know _I love you. You're a sweet, wonderful girl, and I can't think of anyone else who would be perfect for my daughter. But when are you finally going to do the next right thing?"_

I've just freed one of my legs from my pants, and so I reply while hopping on one leg, "The next...the what now?" That sounds way too forced, like she got that from some cheesy motivational speaker or a fortune cookie.

"_You've done right by Elsa. You've done right by Agnarr and I. And you've also done right by your mother. But what's the next right thing for you? When are you going to do right by yourself?"_

My pants get trapped on my ankle and I end up just kicking it off. I bet I look like a hot mess right now, emphasis on the mess. "I mean...you could argue that all of those things were right for me too."

"_For your future self," _Iduna explains, _"I can't help but think you'd be doing her a huge favor if you had some sort of direction."_

I sit down on my bed with a huff, "But that's the thing. I've been _trying _to find a direction, and nothing feels right."

"_Is it that nothing feels right? Or that you aren't willing to give yourself a chance because you didn't think you'd make it this far?"_

...shit.

Of course she hits the nail right on the fucking head. Of course she can vocalize one of my biggest issues. After high school, my life wasn't a big question mark like I thought it would be, it was just a very abrupt period. One that never made sense, one that never should have been there. But I put it there myself because as much as I wanted to prove that I could _be _someone, I also wanted to be done. With everything. Not in like a suicidal way, but in a sense that I was done trying to live up to any expectations, I did the bare minimum and I just wanted to coast through the rest of life doing fuck all.

And then Elsa happened, and suddenly it just wasn't me anymore. She showed me that there was life after life, she showed me that I could still be someone to somebody. But more so, that I could be someone to myself. _Now_, my future's staring at me right in the face begging me to move somewhere, anywhere. Even if nothing feels one hundred percent right. I just have to pick a direction and hope I can turn that into a one hundred percent.

Wow, this has certainly been enlightening. And goddamn it, I forgot I'm not wearing pants.

"Damn it, you've got a point," I reply hurriedly before rushing into my closet. Which is silly, since it's not like Iduna can see me. "But being a nurse?"

"_Of course!"_

"How? I know you said it was just a hunch, but there has to be more than that."

Iduna chuckles, and begins listing off my attributes like I'm a lottery draft pick, _"Well, you're stubborn and blunt with your honesty, which is a great attitude to have when dealing with patients. You've got a knack for taking care of injuries-"_

"I highly doubt taking care of my own broken wrist proves that."

"_-_and _with sick people. Elsa tells me how much help you are whenever she gets the flu. And she also tells me that you got straight A's in all of your math and science classes in high school."_

I actually got an eighty-nine in Pre-Calc, I had a friend change it so it got bumped up to a ninety. But neither Elsa nor Iduna need to know about that.

"_And when you're committed to something, you work hard for it. I don't think I need to give you an example of that."_

I sigh, "No, you don't."

"_And I just want to say, this isn't me trying to be a recruiter for their nursing program. I'm not going to bribe you, and I promise that if you do decide to apply, I won't put in a good word with any of the faculty. If you get in, it'll be because of your own merit."_

Actually, I want to tell her that bribes and good words would convince me even more, but I'm probably getting $100,000 soon, so I shouldn't be asking for anything from anyone right now. Especially not my girlfriend's mom.

Regardless, she brings up a lot of good points. Ones about myself that I might actually agree with it. I'm not a big believer in destiny, and maybe all the signs haven't been pointing to this specific nursing program, but...I think I owe it to myself to at least try. And in terms of careers, I could do a hell of a lot worse than telling people what to do while pricking them with needles.

So...wow. Okay. This is a thing. That's happening. Right now. I think…

"I think I'm gonna do this."

I'm expecting a bunch of giddiness, and maybe even some clapping, from Iduna. But instead, what I get is _"Woo! Yes! I knew it!"_

I think it's a little more fitting.

* * *

Baked potatoes with sour cream, crumbled bacon, and chives. And the last couple of cookies that we stole from a party down in the lobby last week. This is now on the list of my all-time favorite lunches.

After getting a careful scoop of her potato's innards, Elsa asks, "So what did my mom want to talk to you about? Or, wait, sorry it might be something private."

It doesn't feel like it should be, I'm sure that Elsa would be more than supportive if she heard that I was going to apply to be a nurse. But I don't know if I want to tell her yet, at least not until I hear something official. There's no sense in setting ourselves up for disappointment. But I'm not gonna lie either and say that it was nothing, so I go with a half-truth.

"No, it's okay. She was just wondering if I was going to apply for Arendelle University's nursing program."

The way her eyes don't go wide, and she instead tilts her head curiously, tells me that this is something that she and Iduna have talked about too. "Oh. Are you going to?" she asks.

I shrug, "I don't know yet."

"Well, I think…" Elsa stops herself by eating a spoonful of potato. But I know that's not the only reason why. "Actually, she probably told you everything I'm going to say. And I'm sure you don't need to hear it twice."

For the sake of not feeling peer pressured, that's definitely for the best. "Thank you," I say to Elsa.

Of course, this results in one of our rare instances of silence, where neither of us has any idea what to say. At the very least, we'd ask each other about our day, but my day started like three hours ago, and hers started a couple of hours before that. I'm sure she's also tired of hearing about my mom or the contest, so…

Fuck it, I'm just gonna say the first thing that comes to mind.

After I swallow a bite of my lunch, I say, "This potato tastes like crack."

Elsa snorts, and she's caught so off guard that she drops her fork. "What?!" she says with a grin on her lips that's holding back the rest of the laughter.

I reach my hand across the table and reply, "No, I mean that in a good way."

Her cheeks are starting to turn red, which is just great for me. I love saying dumb shit that gets her flustered and giggly. "What do you mean good...wait that's not even...I mean...Anna!"

"Shh, just take the compliment."

Finally, she allows herself to laugh a little, "What compliment?"

"About your cooking. And how...crack-worthy it is."

"Anna, oh my goodness."

With dripping sarcasm, I remark, "Well I'm _sorry _that my _girlfriend _is such an amazing _cook_." I also wiggle my fingers to remind her that my hand's still on the table.

She takes the hint and rests her hand on top of mine, stroking my skin with her thumb, "I love you."

Feeling accomplished, I smile and say, "I love you too."

"And my mother...gosh, I can't _believe _she called you her future daughter-in-law."

Oh, okay I guess she's fine talking about that thing. I squeeze her hand to get her to look at me, even though she's already looking at me. "It sounded like she's been waiting to use that line for a while now."

Elsa bites her lip, "Yeah, she might have been."

Ah…hmm. Okay yeah, the lip bite should have keyed me in. My mind starts to try and register how I'm feeling about this, and in the meantime my mouth continues to make words. Vague words. Words that imply something that, despite my bluntness, I won't outright say until Elsa does. "Is that something you two have talked about before?"

The redness on her cheeks takes on a different meaning now as she has a hard time keeping my eye contact with me. "Once or twice? It was just- I mean you know how my mother can be, she cares about my future. _Both _of our futures. She just wanted to know if I was thinking about it."

Testing the waters, I say, "Well have you?"

She gives me one second of eye contact before looking down at her plate. I know her well enough to tell that she was looking for something in my eyes, apprehension or eagerness, already deciding that her response was going to be dictated by how I was feeling. Except my gaze has to be too intense, since there's confliction radiating off of Elsa. And if I'm too intense, it's because I already know my answer. I'm just waiting for hers.

And she gives it to me, with a cautiously optimistic "Yeah, I have."

I smile and say, "Well good because so have I."

The final wall of apprehension breaks behind Elsa's eyes, and she looks at me relieved, "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean of course it's still a terrifying concept for me: a girl who used to think finding 'the one' was some silly fantasy, but it's easy to think about when it comes to you."

The way Elsa's chest rises and her eyes light up tell me I just said something good. Probably the best thing I've ever said ever. "Anna…gosh, I don't even know what to say."

I smirk, "Well it wouldn't be the first time."

Her shoulders slump and her eyes close. "Ugh, why did you have to ruin it?" she whines.

"Come on, you know it's what I do best."

She looks at me, trying to feel annoyed despite the fact that she's still reeling from all the sappiness. "I can think of at least five more things you can do better than that."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I say defiantly.

"Well, I sure hope so because that _was _a compliment." Before we go any more off-topic, Elsa places her other hand on mine, completely forgetting about her baked potato for the moment (even though I haven't forgotten about mine, and I'd very much like to eat the rest while it's warm), and she says, "And...it's also easy for me to think about marriage when it comes to you."

Fuck.

She said the word.

I didn't think it would leave me as breathless as I'm feeling now. Like an idiot, all I can say in reply is, "Yeah."

Elsa blinks, and her demeanor changes. She sits up, lets go of my hand, and returns them towards her spoon and fork. "But maybe we shouldn't think too much about that right now. We've got time, and I think it's best that we focus mostly on getting through the next thirty days."

I sit there like an idiot with my hand reaching out for nothing for far too long. Finally, my mind catches up with my body and I sit back up again too. "Right, yeah we gotta focus on the days. Contest. Money."

"Mmhmm."

I take a couple more bites of my lunch- god this potato's amazing- before the crafty bitch side of me butts in with one last comment. Softly and mischievously, I remark, "Anna Stark does have a nice ring to it."

Elsa drops her utensils and buries her face into her hands with a groan.


	53. Day 364

**Day Three Hundred and Sixty-Four: Mr. Arendelle**

I think, for good reason, Elsa and I were expecting something to fuck us over. With a month left in our stay, and considering how good things were, it felt inevitable that there would be one last thing to go wrong. And given how careful we were to continuously hide our relationship from Olaf, we knew that the fuck-up wasn't going to come from us. But it had to come from somewhere, right?

Well, imagine our surprise when a month passes by and...nothing happened.

No unforeseen loose ends, no surprise encounters with Olaf, no lingering questions about our relationship, and no crazy adventures. Unless you count last week when Elsa couldn't sleep and we went out to get waffles a 2 AM. But that story begins and ends with that one sentence. The month didn't have any surprises waiting for us.

...until today.

* * *

_Dear Anna Reinhart,_

_Congratulations! You have officially secured your place into Arendelle University's Nursing Program. Attached to this email are your next steps including tuition payment methods, housing options, and your scheduled appointment with your admissions counselor. Our nursing program is one of the most highly-accredited programs in the country, and we are so excited for you to join us._

* * *

"Holy shit," I say as I scroll through the rest of the email. I guess Iduna's hunch turned out to be true, I'm going to be a nurse. Well...a nurse in training. And that's only if I survive all the classes, and now I _definitely _need the money so I can pay for tuition, and of course I'll need to figure out my living situation-

Oh fuck, I need to tell Elsa. I gave her the half-truth about applying, and now that I'm in, I need to tell her the other half of the truth. That's how it works, right?

And hey look at that, she's opening my door. "Hey, you ready to go?" Elsa asks me.

I put my phone in my pocket and nod a little too quickly, "Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Let's, uh...let's go."

She raises an eyebrow, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course. It's...I'll tell you about it later.

"Anna…" she says with a frown.

"No trust me, it's really good news. I just...we gotta focus on this thing first, right?" I walk over to her and kiss her on the cheek. With my hands on her arms, I reassure her, "Now come on, Mr. Arendelle's waiting for us."

* * *

So yeah, the admission letter isn't the only big surprise today.

When our check-ins started to go by a little quicker than usual, I knew I should have started to get suspicious. But I was so caught up with the easy Sundays that I didn't want to pry. And then at the end of last week's check-in, Olaf springs on the news that Mr. Arendelle wants to speak to us. And of course, he doesn't say why.

So now, Elsa and I are in an elevator traveling all the way to the top floor of Arendelle Towers, possibly on our way to impending doom.

"What do you think he wants?" I ask Elsa.

She shrugs, "I don't know, but I'm sure it's nothing bad. Remember, Olaf said that couples who failed the contest were immediately evicted." I actually didn't remember that, but I'm grateful that Elsa understands my concern.

"Well that's reassuring." I feel Elsa squeeze my hand, and when I look at her, she's smiling without a single worry on her face.

"We're in this together," she tells me.

I smile back and reply, "Always."

When the elevator doors start to open, she quickly lets go of my hand. Even though I know why she does it, I still grumble like a needy bitch.

We're greeted by the sight of a hallway lined with red carpet and rows of floor lights, which has us thinking that maybe we took the wrong way up here. This feels like an entrance for celebrities, and as good an author as Elsa is, I don't think she's celebrity status. And I'm _definitely _not even close to being famous. But there doesn't seem to be any other way to the top floor, and at the end of the hallway is a receptionist table. And an important-looking set of double doors. The receptionist doesn't acknowledge us until we've walked down the hallway. With a highly practiced customer service voice, she says, "Hello! Elsa and Anna?"

"Uh yeah, that's us," I reply.

"Perfect," she flips a switch on her desk and gestures to the double doors- solid black, with golden, cursive A's written on the center of each- and tells us, "You can enter whenever you're ready."

We say thanks and walk to the doors together, placing a hand on either of the handles, being careful to not touch each other. Just in case, you know? This is it...whatever "it" is. After sharing one more unassuming smile with each other, we push the handles together and enter the room.

It's...well, it's _big. _Bigger than any room has any right to be, but when you have the top floor of a hotel to yourself, then I guess you're bound to have so much space. And all of that space is furnished to fuck.

It was as if Mr. Arendelle had looked through the "Rich Person Catalog" and said he wanted everything on it. There was leather furniture everywhere, a full liquor bar, two stuffed grizzly bears that I hoped were fake, a massive fireplace, and a king-sized bed with a rolling curtain for extra privacy. Everything had accents of red velvet and gold, even the bears which were wearing red velvet capes.

And in the center of the room, nursing a glass of whiskey with his feet propped up on his solid mahogany table was the man himself: Adrian Arendelle.

The cameras didn't do this man justice, this was someone you had to see in person to believe. His jet-black hair looked permanently slicked back, his chocolate-colored eyes felt warm, inviting, striking, and cautious all at the same time, and his olive skin reflected perfectly against the sunlight coming from his massive windows. This, paired with his all-white suit down to the soles of his shoes, made him feel like an angel that got bored in heaven and came down to earth by himself.

Mr. Arendelle stretched his arms out wide and exclaimed with a silky, baritone voice, "Anna Reinhart and Elsa Stark. I can't believe I'm meeting the legends themselves."

"Oh? Uh, I mean y-yeah it's...nice to meet you too, Mr. Arendelle," I say with as much poise as I have in my body. Legend?

He waves off my comment, "Please, no need to be so formal, Adrian is just fine. Now come and sit, it's been so long since I've had the chance to speak to my contestants."

Adrian gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk that are so tall and ornate, I wouldn't be surprised if they used to belong to a king and queen. Elsa sits politely in her chair while I struggle with whether or not I should use the armrests on mine. I decide not to.

After a sip of whiskey, he continues, "You know, Olaf really likes you both. Every week, he spends at least half an hour talking about you, and how much he wished you two would make it all the way to the end."

"I can't imagine how he must feel now," I joke.

"Oh, he's ecstatic. He told me that he's going to take his wife and daughter out to dinner to celebrate."

"He's celebrating us?" Elsa asks. Also, he has a daughter?

"Do you know how long it's been since a couple has made it all the way to day three hundred and sixty-four? A lot of people thought you wouldn't."

"What people?" I blurt out. "I mean which people? Did you have spies tailing us?"

He puts a hand up, "No, I'm a man of honor. The only means of accountability in this contest was Olaf. But when you stay in the same hotel for almost a whole year, of course the staff is going to gossip. I know our bellhops had a running bet on how long you would last."

I bite my tongue before I can say something I might regret, and decide to let Elsa speak for us for a little bit. "Did you place a bet on how long we'd stay here, Mr- er, Adrian?"

He snorts, "Of course not. If I win, that money goes back into their paychecks anyway." He laughs like he's just heard the funniest joke in years. It's so loud that it almost wakes me up even more than I already am. "Now I'm sure you two are dying to know why you're here. Am I correct?"

"Yes," we both say at the same time.

"Yes we are," Elsa adds.

"Do your worst, Adrian," I add for literally no good reason.

He stares at me with a raised eyebrow that I can tell has been recently threaded (ouch), "Anna Reinhart, do you think you're in trouble?"

"Pssh, I _am _the trouble," I reply.

"What?" Adrian asks straight-faced.

I open my mouth to reply, but thankfully all my words have abandoned me. All that comes out, instead, is an airy squeak. I turn to Elsa, mentally pleading with her to save me.

"Anna's got a lot on her mind right now," she explains. "So this meeting is a pretty sudden shock to the system. For both of us, really."

"Ah, I see," Adrian says before downing the rest of his drink. The air around us shifts as his posture changes, he takes his feet off the desk and straightens up in his chair. And with a pen he grabs from a holder shaped like a fist, he begins tapping on a piece of paper. "Well, you can allow yourselves to be shocked. Because we're about to do your final check-in."

"Wait, what?" we both say at the same time.

Adrian chuckles, "That's so cool how you guys can do that."

"I thought it was Olaf's job to do check-ins," Elsa says. "And usually we do them separately."

"For most of the year, it _is_ Olaf's job. But I take over for the final check-in. After all, it's _my _money on the line and I'd like to know just who might be getting it. And because _my_ questions pertain to both of you, it just makes sense for you to do the final check-in together."

Elsa and I turn to each other, exchanging a look without trying to make it seem too obvious that we're exchanging a look. It's hard to explain, our faces don't really move much and we try to make sure our eyes don't get any wider or narrower. Right, that's not important to know. We prepared for Olaf, we prepared for the same five or so questions, and we prepared for just another lazy Sunday aside from the packing that had to get done. We sure as shit didn't prepare for this.

What are we supposed to do now with the fruit basket we bought Olaf?

"Now, these questions will be very straightforward." He points his solid gold fountain pen at me, "I'll start with you, Anna, and then I'll ask the same question to Elsa. No, your answers do not have to be exactly the same. In fact, they _should _be different. Except for maybe one, but we'll get there when we get there."

At some point, my spine subconsciously straightened up, and I find that I'm gripping the armrests. God, I really wish Elsa was holding my hand right now. I look at her and realize that, of course, she's anxious too. I wish I could hold her and tell her that we'll get through this. But, like, in a platonic way.

Adrian Arendelle doesn't seem like the kind of guy to screw people over just because he can. I hold on to that assurance as I wait for the first question.

He writes something on the paper in front of him, I bet there aren't any snowflakes on it. "Anna Reinhart, what was the worst part about living with your roommate and ex-girlfriend, Elsa Stark?"

"The worst part?" I repeat.

"And be honest," he says...warns?

I force my mind to start being useful, and I tell it to focus on the negatives about Elsa for the first time in who knows how long. "Uh...when we first started, she'd...it always felt too awkward talking to her. Sometimes we'd go days without saying anything to each other, and it just...silence makes me uncomfortable."

"I see," Adrian comments, writing that down on his paper. While his head is down, I mouth to Elsa that I'm sorry. She mouths that it's okay. "Now, the same question. Elsa Stark, what was the worst part about living with your roommate and ex-girlfriend, Anna Reinhart?"

From the way she looks down at the floor, I can tell that I'm not going to like what she was about to say. "It didn't feel nice when she would go places without telling me, and then never telling me when she'd get back."

The easy response would be to say that Elsa was guilty of doing the same thing. But then I remind myself that it'd be shitty of me to bring that up, and that we've already forgiven each other for it. When he finishes writing what I assume is Elsa's answer down, Adrian turns back to me.

"Next question: Anna Reinhart, what was the best part about living with your roommate and ex-girlfriend, Elsa Stark?"

Yeah, these questions are definitely a lot different than the ones Olaf asks. I bet he's not even gonna ask us about the fluffiness of our pillows. This should be so easy to answer, but I have to remember that we're not supposed to be dating right now. So I shouldn't say anything that makes me sound like I'm fucking crazy for her. Even though I am.

I go with a neutral, yet still kind of cute answer. "She likes to sing a lot, and she's really good at it. And, I don't know, something about hearing her sing makes me feel comfortable."

Funny enough, I've never actually said that to Elsa. Which means the blush on her cheeks is super genuine. Oops.

"And you, Elsa Stark, what was the best part about living with your roommate and ex-girlfriend, Anna Reinhart?"

Elsa shakes herself out of her trance and looks at Adrian, "Hmm? O-oh, it's my turn. I-I guess...it's never boring with her. Whenever we hung out, she'd always find something fun to do. It helped a lot of the days pass." Oh, she's never actually said that to me either. My heart swells with pride over knowing that I've made this year fun for her. For the most part, definitely not for the beginning part.

The urge to tell Elsa I love her is pretty strong right now.

"Okay, last two questions," Adrian says. "Anna Reinhart, what are you planning to do with your $100,000?"

Damn, that's specific. But at least I can answer it without subtly professing my love for Elsa. I shift in my seat, "I'll definitely have to find a new place to live since my old landlord hates me. Plus, I was kind of thinking I'd use that money for tuition. I'm going into Arendelle University's nursing program."

Adrian smiles in a way that disarms me, but in a good way. "Oh wow, congratulations!"

Elsa's reaction, of course, is much different. "I thought you didn't know if you were going to apply."

I give her an apologetic smile, "Surprise! I...didn't want to jinx anything. I was actually going to tell you after this meeting."

"Oops," Adrian remarks without looking up from his paper.

I know Elsa wants to ask way more questions, like when I actually applied and how much Iduna knows, but now's not the time. Still, I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm going to be getting a lecture at best and an innocent yet effective punishment at worst.

"And Elsa Stark, what are you planning to do with _your _$100,000?"

Elsa looks at him dumbfounded, and so do I. We're both thinking the same thing, but she speaks first. "Wait...we're _both _getting the full amount?"

Adrian nods, "Was that not clear? Oh well, I thought we made that clear. But anyway, back to the question, what are you planning to do with your money?"

Elsa lets out a deep breath, eyes wide, "I, uh...wow. Umm, well I was planning on putting in a down payment on a house and then saving the rest. It'd be good to have that kind of money on me while I'm writing."

"Oh right, I forgot to mention I've actually read some of your works before," he says while pointing at Elsa with his pen. "You're great at dialogue, but your endings are a little contrived."

"Oh. Uh okay, I'll make sure to keep that in mind." She's not showing it, but I know Elsa took offense to that.

There's some very uncomfortable silence as Adrian writes out Elsa's answer. I want to smile at her again, but I don't want to risk anything. Not when we're this close to freedom. I have to keep reminding myself that we'll have all the time in the world to look at each other, and kiss, and do other things. Fun things. I'm doing my best to not get too confident, this last question might end up biting us in the ass.

Adrian looks up from his desk and takes a deep breath. I'm expecting him to look at me like he's got me on the ropes, determined to get with one last shot. But he gives nothing away in his eyes, this is business as usual for him. Even if this is very unusual business. "Last question, and remember I need you to be honest," he says calmly. "Anna Reinhart, at the end of this contest, would you consider pursuing a relationship again with Elsa Stark?"

...oh.

Oh damn.

_That's _the final question?!

It seems so easy to answer, but I don't know if what I want to say is what I need to say. Adrian Arendelle's telling me to be honest, but what good is honesty if it might end up screwing us both over? It's so clear, and yet I don't know if I should say it. What if I give too much away with my answer? What if I sound too suspicious? What if my silence already tells him what he needs to hear? I need something, a sign or a memory or a word, to tell me that I'm going to get this right.

And that's when I look over to Elsa…and she's smiling.

She's smiling because she knows what I want to say. Because she remembers that, despite how much I've emphasized wanting to win this contest, there's something else I want more. And that's her. But her smile isn't cocky or confident, it's not manipulative, it's peaceful.

She's looking at me like this is just another day, and I'm the only thing that matters to her. And yeah sure, I need to pay for tuition now, and I don't technically have a place to stay after this. But I'm supposed to be honest, and I _want _to be honest, even if it means risking what we've worked for a year to get.

So, I look back to Adrian, who's waiting for a response with his pen spearheaded against his paper, and with a deep breath, I say to him: "Yes. I think I'd want that more than anything else."

He nods but doesn't write anything down yet. Instead, he turns towards Elsa and says, "Now the same question-"

"Yes," Elsa says confidently. "You don't even have to ask it again. My answer is yes."

Again, he nods but doesn't write anything down. His eyes glance down for a minute as if he's deep in thought. Maybe he's reconsidering this whole check-in, maybe he's dragging this out before telling us that we've failed, or maybe he just doesn't know what to say. But then he begins to speak, and I know that last one isn't true. "Since this contest started, we have interviewed fifty-six couples, and thirty-two of them actually moved into Arendelle Towers. Of those thirty-two, only thirteen couples lasted longer than a month, five lasted longer than six months, and two made it all the way to this check-in. Well, now three."

He grabs his whiskey glass, and when he sees that it's empty, he places it back on the desk disappointed. But he doesn't look disappointed when he says, "And no one has ever said yes to that question."

Neither of us knows what to say, we just look at each other and high five internally because even if that's a daunting statement, we're kind of impressed at ourselves for being trailblazers.

But Adrian doesn't look impressed. "I'm convinced that there's more to your relationship than you're letting on. I'm convinced that you two have been lying to Olaf for, well, who knows how long."

Ah shit, I guess it's the end of the line for us.

"However, that's suspicion without any evidence. Besides, I believe you two have something special, something I haven't seen before. And even if it _is _my money, and I _do _have the final say, I value compassion over competition. So, it brings me great joy to say…"

Adrian stands up, and his demeanor causes us to stand up as well.

"Anna Reinhart and Elsa Stark. It has been a pleasure getting to know you," he says, "And congratulations, tomorrow you will be rewarded with your prize money."

* * *

To our credit, Elsa and I are very professional as we say our goodbyes to Adrian Arendelle. And on the elevator ride and subsequent walk to our room, we both simmer our excitement so it doesn't boil over in front of everyone on our floor.

But when we get back to the room, and we're finally allowed to express ourselves, I let out my excitement in a way I've never done before.

There's adrenaline flowing through my veins, and I use it to step towards my soon-to-no-longer-be-secret girlfriend, pick her up by the waist, and spin her around. She yelps, but then starts to giggle; it's music to my ears.

When I put her down, she's still giggly and she has her hands on my shoulders. "Well, that was new," she says amused. And her eyes are telling me that she's slightly turned on by my circumstantial superstrength.

"It felt right," I say with a shrug. "But don't expect this all the time, I'm not a superhero. I'm just a girl who really likes going to the gym, and even if I tried doing it again I'd probably have to stretch first because my arms feel-"

Elsa shuts me up with a kiss. A kiss that says she understands. A kiss that says she'd never ask for anything more from me. A kiss that says all she wants is me, and that's all she'll ever want. A kiss that says she's so goddamn happy that we won't have to hide _us _anymore.

I can't believe how many things can be said through one kiss.

When we part, she catches her breath and speaks with her words, "We made it."

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry, were you expecting things to fall apart? **


	54. Day 365

**Day Three Hundred and Sixty-Five: You and I**

**A/N: I wanted to start with the long, sappy author's note so that the ending would be left undisturbed. A year ago, I started writing this story as a coping mechanism for a bad breakup. A lot of what was written here (especially in the earlier chapters) were based on moments, thoughts, words, and emotions that I was experiencing during that time. And then, the story evolved from that. Anna and Elsa became their own people and less of the projections of my ex and I. It became a story of hope, forgiveness, and a fascinating, unbreakable love. **

**And through it all, you guys have been there. Every step of the way. Watching this story unfold. Maybe you just picked this up a couple of weeks ago, or maybe you've been with me since the very first chapter, regardless from the bottom of my heart thank you for being so kind and patient and supportive. I write these stories for me, sure, but I also write them for all of you. I can't believe I've been doing this fanfic shit for almost seven years now. **

**And here's to seven more. **

**Thank you, sincerely. I hope this ending was worth the wait. And whatever you're going through, may hope, forgiveness, and love find their way to you too. **

* * *

_Three Years Ago…_

God, this pizza's hot.

Well I mean I know it has to be, but I wish my dumb ass didn't leave the carrying bag in Rapunzel's car so I didn't have to hold the box with my bare hands. I'm not the kind of person that likes to dwell on this kinda shit, but I can't believe _this _is my life. I'm taking an elevator up to some person's apartment, wearing gross khakis, a dorky polo, and a visor that's too big for my goddamn head, delivering a pizza that's burning my forearm, all to maybe get a $5 tip. Well, I mean I'm wearing my hair down today so hopefully it's like…$7.

I hate this job.

I hate _both _my jobs, but I hate this one even more. Being a pizza delivery girl is...well it wasn't what I expected to be doing after high school. But come on, what _did _I expect to be doing after high school? Right now, my current plan is to be at the right place and time to save a benevolent millionaire from a runaway bus. And he's so grateful, that he gives me the keys to one of his mansions and like a million dollars and a car that's interior isn't peeling off.

I shake my head when I hear the elevator bell ding, "Anna Reinhart, you are fucking insane."

Thankfully no one's around to hear that. As an esteemed member of the Pizza Planet family, I'm supposed to "conduct myself with the utmost politeness and optimism". I adjust my visor for the hundredth time and walk down the hallway. I glance at the receipt taped to the box one more time: _Elsa Stark, Room 206._

That's a cute name. I bet she's like one of those sleep-deprived scientist types who's gonna save us from some catastrophic disaster in like five years.

The walk to the room is short. Which is just peachy because if I have to hold on to this pizza for any longer, I'm gonna lose my arm. She has one of those fancy doorbells with the cameras on them, and I press the button underneath, half-expecting some robotic voice asking me state my name and business. But there's nothing, at least for a few seconds until I hear the anti-climactic noise of a lock turning. The door opens and-

Holy shit, she's hot.

Elsa Stark is hot.

Hotter than this pizza. Hotter than any girl I've seen. She's like supermodel hot. I want to pinch myself to see if I'm dreaming, but that'd be really stupid because if I drop this pizza, then I'm probably fired.

But this girl..._wow._ She's got long, blonde- almost white- hair resting along her shoulders, stunning blue eyes I can tell she's hiding a killer body underneath her oversized shirt and pajama bottoms. Her cute, freckle-marked face scrunches up in confusion when she sees me, and she says, "Uh...hi? Can I help you?"

Fuck, she's got such a sweet and calming voice too. Like an angel. _Is _she an angel? Do angels wear shirts with dancing skeletons on them? Wait, why am I here again?

Oh right, the pizza.

I clear my throat, hoping that I haven't been staring at her like an idiot for too long. "Y-yeah, I've got pizza. For you. I mean, I have a sausage and cheese for Elsa Stark. Which I'm assuming must be you..I think?" Great job, dumbass.

The girl's confused look doesn't go away even after my eloquent explanation. "I'm sorry, I didn't order a pizza," she says, sounding like she's actually sorry.

Immediately, I feel my cheeks start to warm up and my mind runs through every word that I know trying to form a coherent response. With my dumb, wide-eyed expression, I go with: "Oh? Oh! Uh, I'm sorry, I guess maybe I have the wrong door. Or maybe, do you think maybe there might be another Elsa Stark in the building. Wait, that's ridiculous. Sorry for the inconvenience, I'll just go."

Well, this was great. Just great. You delivered a pizza to a cute girl who didn't even order it, _and _you fucked up on like every fifth word. This is why you're single, Anna Reinhart.

I'm about to walk back to my car, when I hear Elsa(?) sigh and say, "Wait. I...I think I know what's going on."

I turn around, and she's got her eyes closed and an unamused frown on her perfect lips. Gross, okay stop describing her like an amateur romance novelist. "You do?" I mutter.

"My parents probably ordered that pizza for me," she explains. "I just moved in, and they wanted to make sure I had something to eat tonight. Even though I told them I already went grocery shopping earlier."

I look at the receipt again and notice that the pizza, in fact, had already been paid for. The deviant part of my mind is disappointed, it was secretly hoping that she might not have the money for the pizza and would have to pay another way. "That makes sense," I reply, drowning out that shameful thought. "So you're really Elsa Stark, then?"

She opens her eyes and gives me an apologetic grin, "Yes. Sorry for the misunderstanding, let me just take that off your hands."

We make the handoff, and I'm grateful that nothing awkward happens in those five seconds. Except this is supposed to be when the deliverer-customer interaction ends. Which means I have no other reason to stick around. Which means no more Elsa.

And I'm already bringing myself to be okay with that, since it's not like she's "the one" or whatever. She's just another hot girl that I can't flirt with because I have to be a stupid outstanding member of the Pizza Planet family. Elsa smiles at me, even if it's a polite one it still makes my heart flip around and stuff, "Thank you, Anna."

"What?"

She circles a tiny area of her shirt with her finger. "Your nametag. Anna's your name, right?"

Oh. Right. I nod my head, "Yeah, that's right. That's my name. Actually, it's pronounced Anna."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

I wave off the apology, "It's fine. People get it wrong all the time, it's not my fault my parents decided to be different." Oof, okay how about we stop before weshove our family problems on another total stranger?

"Well in any case, uh…" Her smile looks like it grows a little bit wider, maybe she found my family-deprecating comment amusing? "Thank you, Anna." She says it right this time, more right than I've ever heard anyone say it before. And she looks down at the box and adds with a breathy chuckle, "Gosh, I don't even know how I'm supposed to eat all this pizza by myself."

Now, obviously I can tell Elsa to just save some in the fridge or invite some friends over to eat it with her. And in the Employee Handbook I skimmed through, the Pizza Planet answer would be to direct her to other deals for even more pizza she can't eat by herself. But my mouth has instead decided to go into business for itself and sabotage me. And, also, fuck Pizza Planet.

So, without thinking, I tell her instead, "I could maybe help you with it."

Elsa's eyes go wide and her answer is immediate: "What?"

I shake my head as my stupid brain catches up with my even stupider mouth keeps asking what the fuck is wrong with me. I scramble to come up with some sort of apology. "I- wow, that was _really _unprofessional. I am so sorry, I can't believe I said that. Could we just forget I said anything? Actually you know what, I'm just gonna leave you alone forever now. Sorry. Again. The pizza's free- ugh of course it's free, your parents paid for it. I'm gonna go."

I turn around and start walking as fast as I can without it turning into a full-on sprint to the elevator. But once again I'm stopped by the voice of someone who, for good reason, should have closed her door by now."

"When does your shift end?"

I stop mid-step- almost tripping over myself- thinking that there's no way this can be happening right now. But when I turn around, Elsa's partially out her door, holding her pizza with both hands in front of her stomach. And I'm still close enough to see that she's biting her lip.

There's _no _way this is happening.

I look at my watch that doesn't exist and say, "Uh...I-I think I get off in like half an hour."

Elsa nods, looking at everything else but me. I can tell that she's feeling exactly what I'm feeling: uncertain, but hoping that she's doing the right thing. "Okay, um I could probably save you some. I mean if you want to, at least after your shift is over. You know where I live, and I think I'm gonna be up for a little while longer. Again, only if you want to."

Holy shit, this is happening.

My visor's dipping a little low again, and I decide to just take it off and crumple it in my hand. Now perfectly aware of how long half an hour actually is, I speak eloquently, "Yeah, that's- I mean yeah that's cool. I can do that, totally. Absolutely. When I get back, I could honestly just clock out and- yeah, no that totally works. Totally works. I can...I'll meet you back here in half an hour. So that means yes, I'm down. To eat pizza."

All uncertainty leaves Elsa's face, and it's replaced with what could be relief. Her posture relaxes and her smile is back. And as added assurance, she says, "I'm glad. See you in half an hour, Anna."

She disappears behind her door, and I'm left looking like an idiot alone in the hallway. But at least I'm an idiot who maybe kinda just got a date for tonight. Soon, I'm going to be eating pizza with Elsa Stark, in Room 206.

And who knows? If tonight goes well, this could become a thing.

* * *

_Now..._

I know I don't need to knock on Elsa's door anymore, but she loves hearing the knock and I'm trying to set the right scene. After a second, she opens her door and almost laughs when she sees me. "Oh my gosh, you dork," she says with a wide grin on her face.

Trying my best to stay in character, I look at the blank piece of paper in my hand and say, "Yeah, I've got a personal-sized sausage and cheese pizza for Elsa Stark. Which I'm assuming must be you...I think?"

Elsa giggles, "You know it's me, Anna."

"Great!" I shove the tiny pizza towards her and add, "That'll be $100,000."

With a dramatic click of her tongue, Elsa replies, "Ah gee, I don't think I have that kind of money. Maybe there's…_another _way I could pay you?"

I shake my head, "Sorry ma'am, I only take cash."

Elsa rolls her eyes and places the pizza on top of a rolling suitcase by her door. "Just come here and kiss me," she says while pulling me forward with a hand on my hip.

I kiss her with zero shame, knowing we have nothing to hide anymore. And when Elsa takes the old, wrinkled visor off my head because it's too in the way, it's sexier than it probably should be. Maybe I should let her take the lead more often.

When she finally pulls us apart, her hand is still on my hip while the other has my finger hooked on a finger. "I still can't believe Pizza Planet let you keep this."

I scoff, "What are they gonna do? Hunt me down so they can't take it back?"

She places the visor on top of the pizza and now both of her hands are on my hips, "I also can't believe you spent the first of your prize money on a pizza."

"Not just _any _pizza, an Arendelle Towers pizza straight off the room service menu."

"Oh, even better," Elsa replied with a sarcastic smile.

It's fucking insane to look back on the year I've had. I vandalized a mansion that belonged to the dad of a girl who was cheating on her boyfriend with me, I broke my wrist punching an inanimate object, I got a tattoo, I got drunk off mimosas out of spite, and oh right I told my ex-girlfriend I was still in love with her and _somehow_ that worked out. I didn't think anything else would surprise me.

And then Olaf showed up with two silver briefcases literally stacked with $100 bills, and I'm easily proven wrong. I thought they were going to be a little more low-key about the prize money, maybe write a check or have it transferred directly into our bank accounts. But no, they gave us the money like we were doing a drug deal. All that was missing was orange-tinted lighting, a couple of nondescript black SUV's, and a desert. I wanted to grab a couple of wads of cash to throw into the air, but Elsa talked me out of it by saying I'd have to clean it up.

So now here we are, two women in their mid-twenties making out in a hotel room, with more cash between us than we ever expected to have ever. Well, okay, _I _never expected to have this much money.

Of course we felt a little bit guilty about blatantly lying for almost half a year to get this prize, but that was in the past now. Plus, we were able to give Olaf the really expensive fruit basket we ordered for him. So, at least we did _one _good deed.

Whatever, you'd probably do the same thing. Shut up.

Today was move-out day for us at Arendelle Towers. Most of our stuff was already piled into the trunk and back seats of Elsa's car, all we had left was a suitcase and our two cases of money. It was going to be interesting trying to walk down the lobby without telegraphing the fact that we were loaded. But hey, I'm not sweating it that much. We made it this far, right? What's a few steps more?

"What time do we have to meet everyone at the restaurant again?" Elsa asks.

"Like four," I reply. "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll understand if we're late."

Elsa raises an eyebrow, "Why would we be late?"

"I don't know, maybe you and I lose track of time while we're unpacking at your apartment. Maybe, past a sea of suitcases and clothes, our eyes meet and...well _maybe…_"

"No," Elsa replies bluntly, even though she's trying hard to force a smile down.

"I was just gonna say that _maybe _we just so happen to...take a nap. They'd understand if we were tired from the whole moving out thing."

Elsa's generous enough to let me, her technically-homeless-girlfriend stay at her apartment. Which is great because it's so close to Arendelle University that I can just commute instead of living on campus or whatever. And then eventually we'll use our money to get our own place.

Together.

I still don't know whether to count our year apart as a clean break, or a pause. Maybe if we'd never fallen in love, maybe if we were to end this contest going our separate ways, it would be considered a clean break. But we didn't do that. Calling it a pause, though, doesn't seem right either.

What exactly did we pause? Our first try feels so much different than this second time around. Hell, we started this contest as different people already, and yet there were parts of us that were still familiar. Parts of us that held on to each other, bracing against this hope that we hadn't reached the end. If it wasn't for that hope- that love I thought I killed and the love I thought Elsa would never have- then this wouldn't be happening. Elsa and I wouldn't be holding each other, swaying with the sounds of an unheard melody, speaking wordless thoughts about what comes next.

I know for sure that I love her, and I always will. What we have, it's been made perfectly clear that nothing can tear it apart. Not even a five-foot distance between my room and hers. So, then, I guess it's pretty obvious what comes next.

And that's getting out of this hotel room.

She rests against my shoulder, and I kiss the top of her head. "Ready to go?" I whisper.

"Yeah," she whispers back. "I definitely am."

Of course that's not all that's next. I'll be doing the whole nursing school thing, which I'm actually nervous about even though I've talked about this with Iduna for weeks. And Elsa's going to start a new book soon, which means that's going to consume a lot of her free time until she finishes it. We'll probably get a goldfish or something to prove that we can care of something other than ourselves. I'm actually hoping we get a puppy, but I haven't told Elsa that yet. And then we'll both figure out how to save our money so we don't use it all up in like five months.

In terms of concrete plans, that's all I've got. But I know there's so much more in our future, stuff I can't even fathom, stuff I'm not ready to think about yet. Stuff I thought I was ready for a year ago, and now it's just...stuff I'm scared of screwing up again.

But hey, we've got time for that, right?

I've got time to work through those issues, just like Elsa and I worked through our issues this whole year. And this time, we _still _have each other.

Elsa steps to the side to allow me to get out of the room with my _briefcase full of money _(holy shit, that still sounds weird to say) and holds the door open. "Do you want to say any last words?" she asks.

I shake my head, "I've seen enough of this place for a lifetime."

Satisfied, and pointedly not saying anything either, Elsa closes the door. With the door latching shut, and our keycards still inside on the kitchen table, this officially spells the end of our stay in Room 914.

We walk side by side towards the elevator and a jolt of curiosity hits me, "Hey, did you say anything in the elevator when you were coming up here on the first day?"

She nods, "Yeah, I think it was something along the lines of 'I hope she still remembers what I look like'. What about you?"

I giggle, "Yeah, I said 'Anna Reinhart, you are fucking insane'."

Elsa laughs, and it sounds so carefree and lively. "Ah, that sounds so much like you."

"Well duh, that's why I said it."

"Do you still think you're insane?" she asks.

That's an easy question to answer. "No. I'd only be insane if I had let you slip away again."

We reach the elevators and Elsa's smiling so brightly. "I love you," she tells me, and it's like I'm hearing it again for the first time.

"I love you," I say back.

When these doors open and we step inside, this chapter of our life closes. When the doors open and we step out, the next chapter of our life begins. It's new, exciting, and full of opportunities, but it's also terrifying, unknown, and full of challenges. But at least we won't be five feet apart anymore, at least we won't have to do any more silly check-ins, at least we won't have to deal with terrible exes and lumpy mattresses. So, yeah, the future's scary and I'll never know for certain what's going to happen. But I do know that whatever we do, we do it together. Whatever we go through, we go through it together.

And right now that's more than enough.

* * *

**The End**


End file.
